Absolute Matchmaker
by Crimson1
Summary: Len has been reconnecting with the son he never knew existed ever since Christmas. He doesn't plan to turn a new leaf but wants to be a good father, the main rule being that Michael stay far away from anything related to Captain Cold. Which would have worked out perfectly if they hadn't run into Barry Allen.
1. Chapter 1

_**It's actually Michael Wynters in**_ this, _ **because if he can't be**_ Snart _ **, he has to be something that's a pun. If you are unfamiliar with Michael Snart, he is a fandom created**_ son _ **for Leonard that has been used in many other**_ fics, _ **but is not canon to the show or comics.**_

 _ **This diverges somewhere toward the end of season 2 so that Barry defeated Zoom without Henry dying, and the Legends don't exist. Instead, Len has been connecting with Michael since he saw Barry at Christmas, and Barry has been cleaning up the remaining Earth-2**_ metas _ **and did not have that moment on the West house steps with Iris so they are not together, but as always, I will treat their relationship with the care and respect it deserves.**_

 _ **Yes, there is a villain.**_ Hopefully _ **one that will surprise you actually, and I'm super excited for it.**_

 _ **I'm either going to pair Michael with Wally or Hartley, but that will be background and minor. You're still welcome to plead your cases for which of those you'd prefer. I can make the plot work with either.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

It was Christmas, after all, or close enough, that cold day when Len shuffled back to a favored safe house to think.

 _You're doing a pretty lousy job of being a villain this week._

Damn kid. Problem was, he hadn't been wrong.

Len had played it up in the living room of the West house, in full gear, cold gun ready, lounging in an armchair with cocoa and all, but he'd hoped to catch Barry alone, not trailing his adopted sister and ever-present _crush_. He'd hoped to catch Barry in a festive mood and they'd banter like they used to, keep the game going, always _going_ , before he gave hints on how to find Mardon and Jesse, dropped a threat or two to ensure his nemesis didn't think this was permanent, and they'd be even, debt paid.

But Barry was short-tempered, on edge from something Len didn't know the specifics on, and slammed him against the fireplace to force the issue. Less banter, more accusations, prompting conflict in Len's emotions he couldn't dismiss.

Afterward, he'd wanted only solitude, which shouldn't have amounted to debating turning back around to take Barry up on his offer. He didn't get the chance to dwell though once he entered the safe house, because he wasn't alone.

The light was on. No ambush then, if the person was announcing their presence, but it wasn't Mick or Lisa either, which meant someone was poking around where they shouldn't be, and Len was not in the mood to play nice.

It didn't help that when he aimed his whirring cold gun into the cluttered living space that the face he found was young and startled and unfamiliar.

Save the eyes. Len knew those eyes.

"Don't shoot!" Hands shot for the ceiling. "I just—"

"How'd you get in here?"

"Charles! From the bar! He said you sometimes come to this one, had an extra key—"

" _Charles_ isn't a rat, so if you've done something to him—"

"No!" Those eyes were so wide, kid had to be early-twenties only, but Len knew that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. Good looking, neatly kept coils of hair, dark skin, but _blue_ eyes—strikingly blue. "He was kinda scary actually, but when I explained who I was, once I _proved_ it, he gave me the key, said I could figure it out for myself."

"And who are you, exactly, that I should care instead of cleaning house?"

The hands had dropped, slowly, cautious, with a tiny shrug and twitch of a smile. "Your son."

* * *

The months went by quickly and differently than any before it. Len read in the papers about the defeat of Zoom before he heard it on the streets, which a year ago he would have considered sloppy, but now…he wasn't sure.

He wasn't out of the game, didn't want to be out of the game for good, even had a few future heists lined up, but he'd been taking it easy to spend more time with Michael.

Michael Wynters. His son.

"Dad, this is it. You'll love this place. I practically lived off their chicken salad in college."

He called Len 'Dad' with ease, and it warmed Len every time. Today, it was another lunch date. In the beginning, they'd seen each other constantly. Now that they'd settled into the idea of being family, knew each other more, it was still three or four times a week. Lunch or dinner or longer evenings planned. There was so much to make up for.

 _Aunt_ Lisa, who loved being called that and didn't mind one bit being closer in age to her nephew than her brother, joined them on occasion, as did Mick, who'd made Michael nervous originally, until he got on the man's good side with a story.

"I'm named after you, you know. Mom remembered you, how close you two were, like brothers, she said, so if she was going to name me something to connect to my dad, she knew it shouldn't be _Junior_ or anything after my grandfather"—even being called that in passing was more than Lewis deserved—"but after someone important to him."

"Hn," Mick had passed it off like it was no consequence, but he called the kid 'Mikey' after that and softened considerably, when he wasn't teaching him how to defend himself.

"Any punk gives ya trouble, Mikey, and we're not around, just do _this_."

Which was as much of their lifestyle as Len allowed.

Michael wasn't like them. He'd grown up middle class and cared for. Single mom, sure, but that wasn't anything bad on its own, maybe better in this case. What kind of life could he have had if he'd grown up with _Len_?

He didn't even look like him really, a trait here or there, a specific smile, gesture, or way he said something. But the eyes— _oh_. He had Len's eyes, and that was a strange, wonderful thing, Len decided, because there were very specific things he wanted to pass on, if any at all, and _very specific things_ he didn't.

Michael's mother had felt the same, which was why she'd waited to tell Michael who his father was until she was lying on her death bed. She'd been gone a few months when Len ended up back in Iron Heights for killing Lewis, and Michael had hesitated to do anything about the information on his lineage, but when he heard Len broke out, he'd grown reckless, curious, and sought some of the places he knew _Captain Cold_ haunted, regardless of the danger and Len's apparent penchant for murdering family members.

Naturally, Len had been skeptical when Michael showed up, but he'd indeed had proof, the same proof that had been enough to convince Charles, bartender at Saints and Sinners. It was the picture of the boy's mother though that shook Len enough to loosen his hold on the cold gun.

Gorgeous. Dark skin. Bright smile. It had been a brief affair when Len was younger than Michael was now. She'd been a good girl who didn't belong in the neighborhoods she was frequenting to seek out adventure. Len was hurt when she disappeared, but he moved on, understood no one in their right mind would stick around someone like him for long if they had better options, and figured she'd gone home, maybe back to some Ivy League boyfriend. He'd never known she was pregnant, but those eyes proved Michael's story even before the paternity test put all remaining doubts aside.

Len had only two rules while getting to know Michael. First, if they went out, he had veto power over where in case there was risk of running into cops, or worse, _Team Flash_ and other do-gooders.

Second, Michael didn't get involved in the Captain Cold side of Len's life—ever. It was too dangerous, the reason his mother had held back from admitting who he was for so long. If she'd ever considered tracking Len down sooner, she probably kept learning of worse and worse exploits that changed her mind right back again.

"I was working on more theories applying absolute zero today. Thought of you," Michael said after they'd ordered at the counter and sat in an out of the way table. "I think the science behind it was lent to us from STAR Labs. Doctor McGee said she knows the folks there, so—"

"No Cold talk," Len said, clearly seeing where this was headed—it was Lisa's fault Michael even knew where the cold gun had come from, "and you're not getting a look at the gun."

Michael flashed a cheeky smile that Lisa swore was a Snart family trait. "Aw, come on, Dad, just one night to take it apart? That doesn't put me in any danger."

"Not happening. Never know when I might need it."

It went unspoken that Len was always potentially only hours from committing a crime, though Michael appeared more skeptical the longer Len went without one.

The boy was smart, more than enough to make Len proud, not that he ever would have needed Michael to prove anything to him. Degree in thermodynamic engineering. Working toward his Masters with plans for an eventual PhD. Cushy job at Mercury Labs. Len never even finished high school, entirely self-made. He was proud of that too, but he was glad Michael had experienced something different.

He never gave up on trying to break rule number two though, said he wanted to know everything about Len, including the darker side, but if that happened…this budding relationship might crumble before it solidified into anything long-term, and Len couldn't deny how much he enjoyed being 'Dad' even though he'd never planned on becoming one.

"I'll wear you down one of these days," Michael said, always patient, which he might have gotten from Len's side, but also hopeful, which had to have come from his mother. "Be right back, okay?" he tapped the table before turning for the bathrooms.

The edge of always being at the ready, perceptive to any threats he might have to defend himself from, wasn't something Len could turn off, but around Michael his guard dropped a little—just a _little_ , like maybe he could do normal from time to time and not have it end in disaster. He didn't want that all the time, but occasionally, it was…nice. Like cocoa in a living room on Christmas, even without the marshmallows, before it all fell apart.

Len wondered what Barry might be up to now. A few months ago, he would have had The Scarlet Speedster's movements memorized, but Flash activity had been regulated to cleaning up the remaining displaced meta humans from Zoom's earth, so while he'd no doubt been busy, they hadn't crossed paths in a long time.

"Snart?"

Len startled, wondering if he'd summoned Barry simply by thinking of him, because there he was, coming from around Len's shoulder.

Barry Allen, effervescent as always, bright and boyish and dressed in that nerdy chic way Len loved. How had he missed him come in? Len always knew when Barry was near. He could _smell_ him coming—that tinge of copper—and _feel_ him—hair-standing-on-end electricity, unmistakable. But for once he'd been taken by surprise.

"Barry."

"Hey." There wasn't any confrontation in Barry's expression, not like the last time they saw each other, just a genuine smile. "Here to enjoy the chicken salad or planning a stick-up later?" he teased— _teased_ , like he didn't for a second believe Len would do that.

He wouldn't, where would the fun be in holding up a café, but it should have annoyed him to be called out like that. Instead, he smirked, "Thinking about it. Your presence would certainly make it more worthwhile. And what is it with the chicken salad here? Can't be that special."

Barry chuckled, charmed and equally charming. "It's the dried cherries," he said, looking like he had half a mind to take the empty seat in front of Len like he had once at Saints and Sinners. "Listen…I never got the chance to properly thank you for Christmas. It made a big difference getting that intel."

"I owed you one," Len dismissed. "Don't think it's a sign of the times."

"You haven't exactly been terrorizing the city since then. I half expected you to show up at the Labs at some point these past few months to help."

"I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again real soon." He caught Barry's stare to make it clear he wasn't being friendly with that info. "Why don't you head back to your little hideout and wait for my call."

A disbelieving yet not at all surprised huff passed the kid's lips. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" He eyed the empty chair, but this time noticed the second drinking glass filled with iced tea. "Are you on a date?"

" _No_ ," Len snapped, too much bite included, which drew Barry's eyes up with a start. "It's not a date.

"If it was Lisa or Mick you wouldn't care, but you're anxious, I can tell. Only time you ever telegraphed being anxious was when…" _When he was working with Lewis_ whispered between them, but Barry didn't say it. "Meeting a contact then? You know, I almost miss having an old-fashioned heist to foil. Zoom's goons have been a _chore_ , but at least we almost have all of them in custody now. The offer's always open if you want to lend a hand with the stragglers."

"I'll leave the heroing to you, thanks," Len said, hoping to shut the conversation down, much as he enjoyed the banter and simply seeing Barry again.

The boy twitched to leave but lingered, eyes landing on the iced tea again. "You haven't been doing any villaining lately. Thinking about what I said? Because I meant it. After Lisa… It's just nice to know I wasn't wrong."

"About what?" Len tensed, which came out in the grip of his fingers around his water glass.

"That there's good in you, Snart. You've been behaving, practically a model citizen."

"Not for long if you keep pushing."

"Oh really?" he smiled endearingly in his challenge, just like the visitors' room at Iron Heights when he'd first told Len he believed in him, which a few months ago, Len would have denied out of self-preservation, but now…

But now _Michael_. Shit. He was out of the bathroom heading toward their table and—

"Barry?"

Barry spun about when Michael called his name.

When Michael _called_ _his name_.

" _Michael_? Oh my god, how _are_ you?"

They hugged like old friends reunited, completely unabashed in their display of affection. Len stared in shock. He must have stumbled into the _Twilight Zone_ , or maybe finally overdosed on Barry's toothaching goodness.

" _Dude_ , why are you never on Facebook?" Michael laughed as he squeezed Barry tightly. "I can hardly keep up. Did I hear your dad finally got out of prison?"

"He did! He's moving back to Central. Spent some time away, but he's back now and we've been reconnecting."

"That is so awesome! You were always so sure you could clear his name. Yeah, ya know…I've been reconnecting too. Dad? What's with the face?"

Michael's eyes landed on Len, and when Barry turned back to see that no, there was not some other man in line of sight to be the bearer of that endearment, his jaw nearly hit the floor.

" _Dad?_ "

"Do you and Barry know each other?"

This wasn't happening, but thankfully, Len wasn't thinking clearly enough to attempt answering that question just yet. "How do _you_ know each other?" he said, because if they'd slept together, Len would have an aneurism right there in the café, and Lisa would never let him live this down.

"Barry tutored me in Chemistry a few years ago. How do _you_ know him?"

 _Thank god_ , but seeing as how Barry would be of no use to Len at the moment, tongue-tied and gaping with his brain trying to reboot, Len had to come up with an explanation on his own. Unfortunately, his ability to reform plans on the fly and improvise completely failed him.

"We dated. Once. Briefly," he said, and _fuck_ , what the hell was he thinking?!

The increased horror on Barry's face did not help, but at least Len had avoided spouting 'he's The Flash' in his state of undue panic.

"Uhh…yeah!" Barry very nearly squawked, exaggerated disbelief replacing the horror as he mouthed, 'SERIOUSLY?' but then screwed his face into embarrassed shock for Michael's sake. " _Very_ briefly. Boy, that's probably super weird since he's your _dad_ ," he nearly bit out with another glare the second Michael's attention diverted to Len again.

The problem was Len couldn't read Michael when he wore this particular expression, because it was one of those rare _Snart_ moments that was so much like Len's own mask, he couldn't penetrate through it to the truth beneath.

"Not…weird," Michael said, continuing to glance between them. "I mean, we're all adults. You're a good guy, Barry, and Dad's a—"

"Supervillain," Barry blurted, unable to keep his floundering word-vomit under control. Of course, Michael already knew that, and Barry looked mildly comforted to see that those words didn't faze him in the slightest. "That's…ya know, why we had to break up! I know he's not like some of the _real_ supervillains in town," he added as a purposeful jab at Len's pride, "but I'm still CSI and—"

"Conflict of interest," Len saved him from further rambling.

"Oh. Sure," Michael said as if that made perfect sense, which it _did_ , but that didn't alleviate any of the awkwardness of the situation. That was when Michael's mask finally slipped as he looked to Barry in concern. "Wait, you wouldn't…you're not gonna call the cops or anything," he lowered his voice, which was how this entire conversation should be going given the café wasn't empty. "Your other dad's a detective."

"He is! But we…uhh…"

"We have an arrangement," Len saved Barry again—only to realize it wasn't entirely saved once he parsed out how that sounded.

"Yeah!" Barry had a remarkable talent for creating animated faces whenever Michael's eyes weren't on him. "Your dad's an _informant_. He's given me intel before, so we try to keep things professional."

 _Brat_ —no matter how much that might be true. "Don't make it sound like I'm a snitch, Barry, I have a reputation to keep."

"There were kids involved," Barry rolled his eyes, back to his annoying self, "and you weren't exactly a snitch about it. I'm grateful. I'm just still processing _this_ ," he gestured between Len and Michael, then looked to Len's son with affection and…understanding. "I remember how much you wanted to find your dad but didn't know who he was."

"Mom finally told me," Michael said. "Before she died."

"Oh, I…I'm so sorry, Michael, I hadn't heard." Thoroughly sincere, as always.

"I've had time to process it. It's tough sometimes, you know all too well, right? But I'm doing okay. A while after she passed, around Christmas? I found Dad and we've been getting to know each other ever since."

"Around _Christmas_?" Barry blinked at Len a little more playfully. "Before or after the mini marshmallows?"

"After."

The smile on Barry's face twitched like he'd played some role in all this, which was neither here nor there—Len didn't think it was, was it? Maybe partially, his ability to accept Michael into his life, a _little_ —but when Michael shot Barry a confused glance, the kid clammed right up again.

"Umm…it's a long story."

"That's the night we broke up," Len supplied—one way of looking at it, and it caused Barry's eyebrows to spring for his hairline.

" _That's_ why you were so on edge," Michael said.

"You also broke into my safe house," Len reminded him.

"Coz _you've_ never broken into anyone's house before?" Barry snarked, then fumbled to correct how much ammunition he kept adding to this already volatile discussion. "Sorry. This is weird. I should go. You're trying to have personal, _father-son_ time." His nose wrinkled on the phrase.

"Well yeah, but we both have reason to catch up with you, Barry," Michael said with that kind smile that was all his mother. "Would you like to join us?"

"Michael—"

"I don't know if that would be—"

"Come on, please? I don't want to miss the chance to catch up with either of you." He snagged a chair to add to their table before taking his own seat across from Len, leaving Barry to sit _between them_. "Unless it's really so terrible being in each other's company?"

This boy was definitely Len's son; he knew exactly how to spring a trap.

Len couldn't be the one to say no without seeming hard and unreasonable, but Barry fumbled again, overwhelmed and looking to Len for help he had no way of offering.

"No, never…never terrible," Barry said.

" _Never_ , huh?" Len pressed, disbelieving.

Barry shrugged, sloughing off some of the tension from his shoulders. "You have your moments."

If they were alone this wouldn't be so difficult—or maybe it'd be _worse_.

"Great!" Michael patted the tabletop. "Then you can sit."

Barry did so. It was possibly the most awkward fifteen seconds of silence Len had ever experienced.

"Nice to know Michael doesn't have the _worst_ taste in friends," he said finally. "Merely questionable."

"You're the one who's too afraid to meet any," Michael chided him.

"It's not fear, it's precaution. Do you really want your friends to know who your father is?"

"Yes. Because you're my father, and I'm not ashamed of that."

This discussion came up far too often, and Len hated having it come up in front of _Barry_.

Thankfully, his nemesis seemed to catch on to that.

"So Michael, what are you up to? Did you get that job at Mercury Labs?"

"I did. Working directly with Doctor McGee. She's incredible."

"That's great! Yeah, I've met her a few times now. She's actually dating my dad."

" _Shut up_. Your dad's dating my boss, and you dated _my_ dad? Good thing we never slept together or this would be a real mess," he snickered, hoping to break the tension, no doubt, but it caused Barry's face to turn green. "I'm kidding, relax. We both had boyfriends when Barry was tutoring me," he added for Len's benefit.

At least now he knew for certain they hadn't slept together.

Wait…

"Boyfriend?" He looked to Barry.

"Yeah, you know…I've had boyfriends," Barry turned a little bashful, then remembered the lie Len had neglected like an _amateur_. "Before you."

Right. Michael hadn't seemed surprised by Barry dating a man, because he knew things about Barry that Len didn't.

"How did you two meet anyway?" Michael asked.

"Series of chance encounters." After all, Len had seen Barry Allen a few times before learning he and Flash were one in the same.

"Obvious flirting disguised as playful banter, you mean?" Barry said.

"Obvious?" Len bantered back if Barry was going to play that card. "And here I thought you were oblivious."

"Just because I didn't give in doesn't mean I didn't know what you were doing." That smile reminded Len of the visitors' room again, all playful and knowing. Flirting back maybe?

"But you did give in eventually," Michael said, "so what changed?"

Nothing, that was the problem. If Barry _had_ been flirting back, it was only because he'd gotten it into his head that _Len_ could change. That Len could be different. He wanted Len to be _different_ , while Len wanted the game to continue. He hadn't wanted anything to change, other than fewer bodies hitting the ground.

"I, uhh…saw how much he loved his sister," Barry said, a lie built on the truth that he'd said to Len's face that day. "Suddenly, all the little things I thought made him seem less like a bad guy and more like a giant _dork_ who likes to play dress up added up to make me wonder if he was better than he pretended to be."

Being right all the time was a curse more than a blessing.

"I keep trying to tell him that," Michael said.

"Yeah? And what does he say?"

"That we don't discuss Cold business," Len said with ice in his tone, but then, Barry was used to rising to his challenges.

"You always put on your Cold persona with me. Makes me wonder what the real Leonard Snart might be like."

"Exactly the same."

"Bullshit," Michael spoke up like the worst kind of traitor. "He only talks like that when he's lying or putting on a show. He _is_ a giant dork. He likes jazz and old sci-fi movies—"

"For real?"

"He also has this crazy old comic book he keeps under glass. The Grey Ghost?"

"You like The Grey Ghost?" Barry whirled on Len with genuine intrigue. "I used to listen to recordings of the radio program when I was a kid!"

Of course he had. The sour thing was they probably listened to it at the same age, just in different decades, both enjoying the tale of a true hero—until, for Len, the belief that heroes could exist got beaten out of him.

The Flash was the exception, and the only reason Len tolerated him. _That_ was why, not for anything silly like sentiment.

"No wonder you two broke up if you didn't get to know each other," Michael said. "You have a scary amount in common if I think about it. Must have only been in it for the sex, huh?"

Len choked on a swallow of water, and Barry managed to choke on nothing at all.

"I'm kidding!" Michael laughed again. "Geez. Please don't tell me about your sex life, Dad, but you are allowed to have one."

"I think _Barry_ would prefer to have one elsewhere." Len raised his eyebrows to get the kid to realize that now was the time to _dash_.

"Uhh, well…anyway, it's more complicated than that, Michael. I could get fired if anyone found out I dated _Captain Cold_. But it's been really, honestly good to see you both," he said, taking the hint and starting to get up.

"Wait," Michael halted him, "was the reason you two broke up really only because your lives cross the wrong way?"

Barry froze halfway out of his seat. " _No_. I mean, there's the age difference and uhh…other reasons."

"Like what?"

"Umm…" Green eyes flashed to Len in alarm.

"Barry has a very strict father-figure who regularly carries a gun, for one," Len said.

"That's not a fair reason," Michael frowned.

"It's a smart one."

"What about what you two want?"

"Michael…"

"I just think it's sad if you broke up for the wrong reasons and never even really learned who each other is."

"Trust me," Barry broke in, "we know who each other is."

"Really? Does Dad know you took tap in college? Or that you _kill_ at karaoke? Or does Barry know how much you've donated to abuse shelters over the years?"

"Wait, really?"

"See!"

 _Great_.

"Wynters!" the person behind the counter called. They always gave Michael's name at places like this, since Len's was more notable.

"Oh! That's our order, I'll be right back." He zipped away as if only too eager to leave them alone with this _clusterfuck_.

Len wished he had something stronger to drink.

"I thought you were _gay_ ," Barry hissed like an accusation.

"Equal opportunity. _Michael_ is gay."

"I know that."

"You knew that before I knew he existed, apparently."

"I had no idea he was your _son_."

"Wouldn't have expected you to."

"Why did you have to say we dated?" Barry dropped his head back with a groan. "So we're both…equal opportunity. That doesn't make this any less weird."

"Better than admitting we know each other because of your _night job_."

Barry shot him a petulant look.

"What's the matter, Scarlet? Worried Miss West might find out?"

The kid's answering expression said it all.

"Well now. Trouble in paradise, Barry?"

"There never _was_ any paradise. Iris and I aren't…" He glanced away with a cringe. "Look, I'm taking a break from seeing anyone right now. No jealous current girlfriend—or boyfriend—to freak out over this. Though I am so telling Cisco the truth. And Caitlin. And Iris, actually. She's _met_ Michael, you know."

The only thing worse would be if _West_ had. "Fantastic. Only how about you _not_ , and maybe I'll go easy on you next time we cross paths?"

"Wait, you _are_ planning a heist?"

"A heist. Heists _plural_ ," Len gestured with a flourish of his hand. "Thanks to you, that clean record got dirty real quick. Why ruin expectations?"

"Thanks to _you_ , you mean," Barry leaned over the table. "You're the one who broke our deal. But if you would have stayed put for a while, instead of letting Mardon get you out, I could have helped fix things. Make it seem like self-defense."

That brought Len up short. "It wasn't self-defense."

"Maybe a little… _delayed_ ," Barry said with the kind of pity Len hated, "but when I think back on that night, it sure seemed like self-defense. Including defense of other people. Lisa. Maybe even me a little."

Len had to shut this down _right now_ , like he'd been trying to shut down the same ideas in Michael to avoid the inevitable backlash when these naïve kids were proven wrong. "I think you're confusing defense with _revenge_. And don't flatter yourself."

It was the visitors' room yet _again_ , because Barry's smile was insufferably smug. "So I didn't hear you say 'Sorry, Barry' after he shot me?"

The only recourse Len had left was to glare.

"Okay! I think that's everything, I just had to grab some napkins," Michael said as he set two trays down on the table filled impressively with his and Len's orders.

The tension between them had to be palpable, but Michael acted as though he didn't notice.

"Online order—Allen!" the person at the counter called, and when Barry slid from his seat, he did so with finality.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to take this to go. It was good to see you, Michael. I hate that we lost touch. I'd like to do this again sometime when I'm not rushing out the door."

"Me too. Here, let's exchange numbers at least," he pulled out his cell phone, "and I'll give you a call sometime. Or you could call first too. I'd love to see you."

Barry took Michael's number, then sent him a text that lit up his phone with what Len saw was a winky-face. "I will. Soon. And Snart, guess I'll…see you around?"

Ambiguity was the key, lest Barry think he had sway over Len that he could not afford. "Time will tell," he said and tried not to watch too closely as Barry retrieved his food from the counter and exited the café.

* * *

Michael's dad was trying so hard to pretend he wasn't watching Barry leave that it was almost painfully noticeable he _was_. There was plenty left unsaid between them, Michael could tell, and a criminal dating a CSI couldn't have been easy, but they clearly hadn't broken up because they didn't like each other.

That stung more than Michael could say, because he'd heard the story of how his mother and father met, how part of his mother had always regretted leaving because she hadn't left for lack of liking Leonard Snart, just fear over how to make it work when their lives were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Now Len was having the same thing happen to him again, with someone Michael also cared about. He and Barry hadn't been close, there were a few too many years between them to see each other often in school, but there had always been that potential for greater friendship, and Michael was honestly thrilled to have run into him if only to nurture that. If there was also a chance to make sure history didn't repeat itself for his father, Michael couldn't let this be happenstance.

Barry knew exactly who Len was and still looked at him with warmth. Len deserved that. He deserved someone who believed he could be more than Captain Cold, just like Michael had been trying to convince him of for months. What did it matter how many years were between them or what they did for their day jobs?

"So…Barry, huh?"

"Don't."

"Technically not Cold related, so—"

"He's CSI," Len said with a sharp edge. "That's Cold related enough, and I don't want to talk about it."

"Well that might be tougher the more I start seeing him again," Michael said, immediately catching the narrowing of his father's eyes. "As a _friend_ , Dad, wow, you are so transparent. How have you been a supervillain all this time again?"

"New rule. No Cold business or talk about my love life."

Michael chuckled and shook his head, because he was long past being afraid of his father or the life he led, even though he knew the man was dangerous and had done some pretty terrible things in the past. He didn't justify those actions, but he wanted his father to move past them and honestly believed Len wanted to move past them too, even if he had trouble admitting that.

No talking about it, fine, but Michael couldn't let this go when both men had been so apparent—and apparent in ways he knew neither of them normally projected. Which meant he should definitely investigate further, if only he could figure out a way to do so without seeming too apparent himself.

* * *

Luckily for Michael, how to get Barry Allen and Leonard Snart in the same room again presented itself only two days later when someone broke into Mercury Labs and stole half of his research and equipment experimenting with absolute zero.

Clearly, a job for the CCPD—and maybe someone else who knew the tech and the criminal world intimately.

* * *

 _ **TBC...**_

 _ **Hope you liked this beginning! Please let me know your thoughts. :-)**_


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't that Michael wanted an interruption in his research. He'd spent years working on theories for absolute zero, both to achieve it and to look deeper into what temperatures close to absolute zero meant for the atoms involved. The odd quantum effects that occurred when atoms got that cold were fascinating, and could lead to the creation of completely new substances, maybe even new elements, and aid in countless medical advancements.

Or, on a more theoretical level, offer insight into time travel, distribution of dimensional energy, or how to stop time entirely, which was ridiculous but still worthwhile to speculate about. Given Central City had been overrun by extra-dimensional meta humans lately, anything was possible.

But if Michael's research and equipment had to be stolen, now was the opportune time. He knew the lead CSI personally, and if anyone understood using frigid temperatures for nefarious purposes, it was his dad.

Now he just had to get Barry, Len, and Dr. McGee to fall in line.

* * *

Barry hadn't told anyone about Michael yet, though he might have to now considering he was walking into Mercury Labs to investigate a theft.

For Michael Wynters—Michael _Snart_ , in a way, which was _insane_ but somehow made perfect sense. And Wynters, really? It was like the universe had planned for that pun. Snart must be so proud.

It was the eyes, Barry supposed, that gave them away as father and son, so blue and intense. They'd caught him off guard the first time he met both men, though under very different circumstances. Michael in the library at CCU when Barry started tutoring him. Snart in the middle of a road while thwarting his theft of the Kahndaq Diamond.

Wow. That had been nearly two years ago.

Was it the eyes, triggering some unconscious memory of Michael, that had made Barry certain Snart could be more than just a thief? Maybe. But it was also the man's actions. And now, the way he acted around Michael, proved everything Barry had wanted to believe of him.

Snart loved his sister _and_ his son, and he would do anything to keep them safe, enough so that he hadn't caused trouble in Central City since he met Michael. Since _Christmas_.

Barry hadn't meant to react so viscerally that day. Snart's appearance in his living room had incensed him because he was caught off guard when he'd already been thrown for a loop finding out about Wally. The family drama had not left him feeling patient, and then Snart had threatened Iris, which was a trigger for Barry as much as threatening Lisa would have been for Snart.

It had all been bluster, of course, Barry knew that once he calmed down. Snart was there to help, however little of it he was willing to offer directly, but it was still something. For Leonard Snart, the infamous Captain Cold, it was almost _sweet_.

Which was just as well for Barry's _ex_.

He snorted to himself as he moved through the R&D labs. A flustered, floundering Snart had been a _sight_ , not that Barry had been much better. The very idea of them dating— _ridiculous_. Sure, Snart was an attractive man, confident, smooth, while also almost endearingly dorky in his antics. Dangerous too, but redeemable in the most remarkable of ways. And incredibly sexy.

Where was Barry going with this again? He needed to tell someone about this whole situation pronto to help clear his thoughts, Cisco at least.

"Hey, Barr."

But not Joe. Definitely not Joe.

"Hey, Joe. What have we got?"

Mercury Labs was and was not like STAR Labs. For starters, it was several floors of a skyscraper rather than spreading out like a football stadium, but the offices and laboratories themselves had similar enough tech and design that Barry felt at home. In the mechanical engineering section of the R&D labs, he felt especially at home.

"Still questioning the staff. This Wynters guy asked for you by name, huh? Getting a rep for your day job as much as the other one?" Joe grinned at him.

"Yeah, not so much, actually."

"Barry!" Michael waved as he entered the room, currently filled with officers taking statements from other Mercury Labs employees and perusing for any damage. Joe stood by the only area with broken glass and toppled equipment, which Michael approached with swift strides.

He dressed so differently from Snart, more preppy, just like he had in college, with a collared shirt and quarter-zip sweater. They reached for each other's hands with matching smiles, a strong collision and squeeze rather than a shake.

"Not exactly how I hoped to see you again," Michael said, "but glad it got us together sooner."

"Joe, this is Michael Wynters," Barry introduced them. "We went to CCU together."

"Well, I was a Freshman when Barry was an early-release Senior." That easy smile and genuinely kind nature—Barry had missed it.

He'd always regretted that he and Michael hadn't gotten closer, but he'd been too focused on his father back then to remember to take care of himself much of the time. They'd had a bright brief year of friendship and then Barry was gone.

"You graduated early too," he reminded Michael.

"Yeah, but you graduating early meant our movie marathons had to come to an end."

"Hate to tell you this," Barry tipped forward with a conspiratorial whisper, "but I replaced you and finished the _Star Trek_ movies with someone else."

Slapping a hand to his chest, Michael gave an exaggerated gasp. " _Betrayer_. And here I thought our time together was special."

They shared a laugh, falling in step like they'd never been apart.

"Do you two need a moment?" Joe asked with some amusement.

"Sorry, Joe. We ran into each other the other day, and it's been nice catching up."

"I've heard a lot about you, Detective," Michael said, shaking Joe's hand more formally. "And don't worry, I know we need to take this seriously. That's why I'm glad to have Barry here. My research was at the turning point of some very important discoveries on absolute zero. Not only does this set me back months," he gestured at the material carnage around his workspace, "but what was stolen could be dangerous in the wrong hands."

"Why don't you walk us through what was taken?" Joe said. "Sounds like only your area was ransacked. No one else reported anything missing. Which means the perp knew what they were looking for and where to find it."

Michael didn't appear ruffled by being targeted, but his shift to sterner focus proved how important this was to him. "I know you'll have to check for an inside job, me as a suspect included, but I've worked with everyone here for months. There's just no way that's what happened."

"Sometimes you think you know someone and they surprise you, but I'll take that into account. And you're not a suspect yet," Joe smiled.

"Good to know." The smile returned to Michael's face just as brightly, wide and earnest—nothing like Snart.

Barry needed to stop comparing the two or thinking about Snart in general.

Attentive to every detail, Michael went on to explain what was missing from his research station, including files from his computer that had been copied.

"Was your computer locked?" Barry asked.

"Always. Automatic if I'm idle for more than five minutes. Someone hacked the system, which is not an easy feat here, but even though they had access to pretty much everything, they only took a few files."

"And all related to your research on absolute zero?"

"Exclusively, but they didn't get everything. If I had to guess, I'd say they only had an idea of what they should take, but they don't know the tech that well themselves. The last thing they took was my cyclotron, but that's what I've been experimenting with, so some of the crucial components were in another location. The thief didn't notice, and those pieces are still here."

Barry startled at the mention of that final piece of equipment, not that it was surprising given the sort of funds available at Mercury Labs. "You're using a cyclotron?"

"Which is a what now?" Joe glanced between them with his patented ' _again_ with the science mumbo-jumbo'.

"It's basically a mini particle accelerator," Barry explained. "Well, they can be all sizes, but I assume mini?"

Michael formed a shape with his arms small enough to carry but larger than a house cat.

Barry nodded. "They use them for nuclear medicine and—"

" _Nuclear_?" Joe cut him off. "Damn, Barry, does our perp have a bomb out there?"

Pausing to consider the specs, Barry shared a calculating look with Michael.

"Not in its current state," Michael said after some thought, "but they could make one."

"And when you say particle accelerator…?" Joe said leadingly.

"Nothing like STAR Labs," Barry assured him, then had to consider the ramifications of the right tech applied the right way with the right _budget_ —something a thief wouldn't have to worry about. "Well…"

"I mean," Michael shrugged in agreement that it was possible, " _if_ they knew what they were doing, but like I said, I don't think they do."

That was a comfort at least, but Joe looked ready to bolt for the nearest bomb shelter.

"Not exactly filling me with comfort here, boys, some hacker thief none of the cameras caught any footage of with a potential bomb they don't know how to control?"

"The cameras didn't catch anything?" Barry asked.

"Not at first glance. Then they cut out. I'll get a closer look back at the station. Listen," he pointed between them with a fatherly finger wave, "you get those super brains working on overdrive and let me know what sorta fallout we might be looking at. I'm gonna catch up with McGee. You know how much she loves seeing _us_."

It was definitely preferable seeing her at family dinner nights and occasional outings with Barry's dad instead of at crime scenes, but then, she did know he was The Flash. "She's our number one fan."

"You let Barry know if you remember anything else," Joe told Michael.

"Will do, Detective."

"It's _Joe_ if you know Barry well enough to be cracking jokes after you just got robbed. I think I remember him talking about you. You know my other son's at CCU now, taking some of those same classes. Never know what any of you brainiacs are talking about." He headed off as Michael's eyes shot to Barry like a plasma spark.

" _Other_ son?"

Sometimes it still caught Barry by surprise, and it had to be some cosmic joke that the day he found out he had a brother, later that same night Snart found out he had a son.

"Turns out the West family is bigger than we thought," he said. "We've got a lot to catch up on. Maybe you can join me for lunch on my way back to the station?"

"That'd be great, Barry. And actually, I have a few other things I wanted to talk to you about anyway." The way he glanced over Barry's shoulder as if to be sure Joe was out of earshot said it all.

Barry hated to admit it, but the items taken, the type of research, it was all similar to elements used at STAR Labs to create the original cold gun and could potentially be used that same way again, as if maybe someone, a particularly talented thief perhaps, was looking for an upgrade.

"Listen, Michael," Barry pulled in close to keep his voice hushed, "I know you won't want to hear this, but—"

"Don't say it's my dad."

"It's just…what was taken is exactly the components for the cold gun."

"Not _exactly_. Several key pieces would be missing, if that's what this person was after. If it _was_ my dad, he'd know what pieces to take, he wouldn't make the mistake of leaving something behind."

"True…"

"And he wouldn't do that to me, Barry. He is militant about keeping that part of his life separate from me. Annoyingly so, in fact," Michael pouted, which opened up a pit of guilt in Barry's stomach.

He was the one always talking about Snart's goodness. Not that he believed in anything overly malicious if Snart _was_ the culprit, but even just an upgrade to the gun was out of scope if it meant involving Michael, Barry believed that after seeing them together for only those few short minutes.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. It just made me wonder if he was hoping to take the gun to the next level. Technically, the cold gun's micro-engine generates a blast of _subzero_ cold, not absolute zero."

"How do you know that?" Michael gaped at him. "Dad won't even let me _see_ the gun."

"Oh, uhh…" _Shit_ , why did Barry have to open his mouth? "My friend Cisco works at STAR Labs and…" _No_ , that was worse! "Shit, umm…people aren't supposed to know this—"

"The cold gun came from STAR Labs."

Now it was Barry's turn to gape. "How do you know that?" he repeated Michael's words back at him.

"Aunt Lisa told me," Michael said with a return of that soft smile. "You're really friends with the guy who built it?"

 _Crap_. Snart was going to kill him.

"Cisco does consultations for the CCPD and meta human task force, but I'm not supposed to talk about—"

"I get it, I get it," Michael held up his hands. "But this is my research, Barry. No one knows it as well as I do, or the potential dangers of some amateur out there hoping to make a bomb or something worse. If your friend could help us work out scenarios for what someone might do with the equipment, great, we should talk to him, but shouldn't I be a consultant too?"

 _We_ should talk to him? This was spiraling out of Barry's control fast. How did Michael take over the situation so quickly?

Right—because he was a _Snart_.

"Maybe," Barry conceded. " _After_ I've done my job and determined if we even need extra consultation to solve this." He was going to regret giving in that easily, but Michael looked so happy to have the opportunity— _giddy_ , and it was no wonder given his generally helpful personality. "To be honest, you and Cisco would probably get along like brothers separated at birth."

There was that not-Snart smile again, before it fell into a calculating smirk, raised eyebrow, and a look in his eyes that _damn_ , was Snart entirely. "Is Cisco your new Bones?"

"What?" Barry laughed. "I guess, technically. He prefers Spock though."

"Ah, so you're saying there's room for both of us on that couch for the next Star Trek marathon?"

How impossible it was to dislike Michael couldn't be a Snart trait. Or maybe it was the cornerstone of Snart traits, at least with Leonard and Lisa. "Cisco will have to vet you first to allow that, but I don't foresee any issues." In fact, Barry sort of loved the idea of introducing his friends and having a movie night. He could invite Wally too. Wally had never seen the original Star Trek movies.

"Awesome," Michael said, then grabbed Barry's arm before he could turn to open his kit. "But hey, there was one other thing I wanted to mention before you got to work."

"Yeah?"

"About my dad."

Here they went again. Of all the excuses Snart could have come up with for them knowing each other, why did it have to be _dating_? "Look, Michael, if there are details about the two of us he didn't want to share with you—"

"It's not that," Michael said. "It didn't work out between you two, I get it. I was just wondering if maybe you could help me with something else. See, I've been hoping to convince him to try other career options, but having some police immunity and backing would help."

Considering Barry had been hoping the same for at least a year, he couldn't help but perk up. "What were you thinking?"

"I think Dr. McGee needs to increase security, especially after all this," he gestured at the mess, "but given the current climate with meta humans, we need more than an upgrade, we need someone who can test our vulnerabilities."

 _Oh no_. "Michael…"

"I want my dad breaking into places to make them safer instead of stealing from them," he said with the type of excitement that would no doubt have Snart hardcore rolling his eyes when he heard about this, "and I think _you_ can help me convince him to do it."

" _Me?_ "

"I also think it would be a great way to get general insight from him regarding the theft."

"Whoa, whoa, hang on—"

"This is his world, Barry," Michael implored him, "his type of equipment, you already said that. And once this thief realizes they're missing necessary components, they are going to come back."

Barry opened his mouth to counter this debacle of impending doom when it dawned on him that Michael was more than likely correct, and not only about the return-to-the-scene-of-the-crime angle. "You're right. Your dad wouldn't want you at risk like that. He'll probably freak when he hears about this." Now there was a thought—Leonard Snart freaking out about anything, yet Barry could somehow imagine it clearly if it revolved around Michael.

"So you'll help me convince him to help?" Michael beamed.

Oh, Barry was so in over his head. But it _would_ help the case. He wanted to keep making nice with Michael because he liked him. He valued the friendship they could build here. And Snart, well…Barry had always hoped to lead him down a better path. Maybe this was his chance.

"Okay. But _you're_ buying lunch. And FYI, I eat a lot more than I used to."

* * *

Len was still gaping at the spot the bowls had been sitting on the counter, even though Lisa had long since snatched them up in his stead because he'd frozen in the wake of Michael telling them about his day.

Someone had broken into Mercury Labs. Stolen Michael's research. Ruffed up his desk. Effectively put a target on Len's _son_ simply because he was doing the wrong work at the wrong time, and somebody wanted it for themselves, which was already _past tense_ , making Len helpless to do anything about it.

His fingers twitched for the cold gun.

"Dad, did you hear me?"

Glancing up at Michael and Lisa finishing setting the table, Len willed himself to focus and not give away any tension. They were at Lisa's tonight. Her apartment was cozier, more like a home. Mick was already dishing up chili at the stove.

"I _said_ Barry's working the case. I met his dad today. The detective, not the one who just got out of prison."

"Well that sounds complicated," Lisa snickered, casting a curious, _invasive_ glance Len's direction. "Who's Barry?"

Sometimes there were no rails for the plan to go off of, just errant sparks.

"A friend of mine from college Dad dated last year."

"Excuse me?" Lisa put her full attention on Len as they took their seats, which was harder to ignore when she was sitting right next to him. "Dated? You? Why didn't I hear about this? I thought you were hung up on Flash."

"I'm not hung up on—" Len cut off before he could fall any further into her snare. "None of your business," he snapped.

Michael had _cooked_ tonight. Len loved when Michael cooked, because it meant all three of them would get a square meal, something Len had never been able to assure with just himself pushing, but for Michael, Mick and Lisa always turned up, behaved, played _nice_.

"Barry's CSI for the CCPD so they broke up," Michael dove them right back into the deep end, then followed up with, "You have a thing for The Flash?"

 _Urg_. 'Barry' and 'CSI' were all Lisa would need to learn exactly who he was, and once she saw his face, she'd put the rest together, because that mask did not cover nearly enough when he didn't blur his features.

"Lisa is exaggerating. You don't moon over someone you've tried to kill," Len said, which was usually talk he'd avoid with Michael, but this needed to be put to bed.

"Unless you've never tried to kill him with any seriousness," Lisa burst his bubble with a well-manicured nail. "But back up. I want to hear about _Barry_. Cradle robbing and pilfering from the boys in blue, Lenny? You naughty boy."

As if she ever needed assistance getting under his skin as only a baby sister could. "It was short-lived. Nothing to write home about. And doesn't bear discussion now."

She eyed him with silent determination to get more out of him later. _Wonderful_.

"Figures," Mick huffed, speaking around his food. "I wouldn't fess up to datin' some pig neither." He'd already taken three pieces of cornbread and probably wouldn't stop there, considering how much butter was in them, but that's what made them _good_.

Baking calmed Len. Baking beside his son, both attending to different parts of a meal they'd share together, calmed him like few things could. He supposed normal happy families experienced that all the time.

"It's fine, Dad," Michael said, "I don't care about your exploits, I want to talk about the case."

Preferable. It also meant Len wouldn't have to wheedle anything out of him. "Smash and grab without injury?"

"Oh yeah, no one was hurt."

 _Good_. "I'm sure Barry and Detective West can solve it then. Give them a few days, case closed." Len was grateful for the beer next to his place-setting considering how hot the chili was. Michael kept trying to outdo Mick's preference for spicy food.

"It might not be that easy. We think it could be a meta human. And the thief missed vital pieces to my work. Barry and I agree they'll probably be back."

Nearly dropping his spoon, Len recovered by clutching it in a death grip. He didn't get nervous or scared or _panicked_ , not where Lisa or Mick were concerned, because they could take care of themselves, but after Lisa had a bomb put in her head…

Michael didn't have the same skillsets. Len was suddenly grateful Mick had been teaching him self-defense, and Barry working the case was a good thing, meant Michael had someone to watch out for him when Len wasn't around. There was no one faster or more reliable than The Flash.

Not that Len would ever tell him that.

"Anyway, I was running some ideas past Barry for how I might help."

"Help how?" Len narrowed his gaze.

"Consulting," Michael shrugged, playing it off as harmless to cover how it very much wasn't. "Mostly on my research and what the thief might be planning to use it for. He was going to ask his friend Cisco too."

 _No_. "Michael—"

"Who you probably want me nowhere near since he works at STAR Labs," Michael rushed on, while Lisa's eyes flew up with interest, "but he's a friend of Barry's, Dad. I like being friends with my friends, so I'd meet Cisco eventually anyway. This just means I can help solve the case faster."

"Cisco huh?" Lisa said—because _of course she did_. "I wonder if Barry was that cutie with him at the bar the night we met."

"You know Cisco too?" Michael asked.

"Don't start," Len scolded her, then made sure Mick across from him understood that this next part also included him. "No Rogue business at the dinner table or anywhere near Michael."

Mick grunted while chomping on cornbread #2. "You may be the boss, Snart, but you ain't _my_ pops."

Len shot him a glare.

"Fine, don't tell me anything," Michael said, stirring his chili listlessly, "but unless you plan to tie me up and keep me here for the next few weeks, it's my research on the line, I'm meeting Cisco tomorrow with Barry, and we are going to solve this case."

Fatherhood would have been so much easier if Michael was ten instead of twenty-three. Len could have just sent him to his room.

"You gonna team-up with some spook, Mikey?" Mick asked.

"He's CSI, Mick, not _FBI_."

"Still a pig."

"Barry's a friend of mine. And you shouldn't judge someone by their profession alone. I never would." Michael had this way of touching Mick, on his arm, right on his scars, without displaying the barest flinch, just warm affection Mick didn't get anywhere else—there and gone too fast for him to bristle over—and he'd melt like wax instead of burning at the wick. "Plus, he didn't call the cops on Dad when we saw him the other day."

"Yeah?" Mick squared his gaze on Len across the table. "You got this kid on the take, Snart? Or just eyes on the ground with benefits?"

"No benefits," Len said. "No nothing. _End_ of discussion."

"Well," Michael stirred his chili again, "if you're so worried about me learning Cold or Rogue related things second-hand, you could always join me tomorrow."

"Join you?"

Michael set his spoon down completely. "Hear me out. Because besides how invaluable your insight would be to the case, I also thought you might be interested in making sure our mystery thief can't break in a second time."

Huh. If Len broke in first, laid claim to the place to scare this joker off, that could work to their benefit. It'd give him an excuse to get his hands on something from Mercury Labs, and Michael couldn't even complain about it.

The other thief might get restless if they'd messed up on round one, might figure grilling _Michael_ for information was the best way to avoid messing up again. Len couldn't allow that.

"So…what if you found the weak spots at Mercury Labs to help us protect against them?"

 _Oh no_. "No Robin Hooding," Len said.

"It wouldn't be Robin Hooding. You'd get paid."

"No fringe work either. Not my style." Len took an aggressive bite of food to silence the matter. He was not some has-been for hire.

"You mean have Lenny break in so he can tell your boss how to supe up security?" Lisa said.

"No stealing nothin'?" Mick frowned.

"No stealing," Michael said.

"You know," Lisa twisted her lips at Len, "I hear a lot of washed up thieves do that sort of thing these days."

 _Washed up_. "Cute."

"Lookin' to learn the trade, Mikey," Mick smacked the boy's shoulder firm enough to rattle the table, "without gettin' your hands dirty? Could be fun. Might end up liking the _thrill_."

" _No_ ," Len snarled.

"Ah, loosen up, Snart. Gotta compromise somewhere. You pull him in or he pulls you in, somethin's gotta give. If ya won't let it be him playin' for our side, better he's askin' for somethin' with a pretty face attached you used to roll with and the chance for some destruction."

" _Controlled_ destruction," Michael said, still smiling from Mick's rough display of affection. "And that part's still a maybe. I haven't asked McGee yet, but Barry already agreed to share evidence if you're willing to help."

"He did?" Len had a hard time believing Barry would be that cavalier about a case. "You talked to him about me tagging along and he was onboard?"

"All the way."

Interesting. Maybe there were angles to this Len hadn't considered. At the very least, he was being invited to keep tabs on his nemesis while the kid played at his day job, not to mention the potential for free access to Mercury Labs he could exploit later.

If it kept Michael in his sights while the thief was at large, all the better.

"No promises on security measures. _Ask_ McGee. I'll think about it. But I will consult on the case on one condition."

Michael bounced in his seat like he _was_ that ten-year-old Len never got to meet. "Of course. Anything."

Leaning close to hold his son's gaze, Len treated this like the hostile negotiation it was. "You are going to walk me through everything I need to know about your research, and if I can use any of it to improve my gun, that's my prerogative."

Lisa and Mick both snorted. Hardly the hardest bargain he'd ever driven, but it proved he wasn't _soft_ just because Michael was the one asking.

"Does that mean I get to see the gun to help you modify it?" Michael grinned—definitely Len's son; he was almost proud.

"We'll see."

* * *

Barry didn't have much time before he and Cisco needed to head to Mercury Labs, but he was grateful Iris, Caitlin, and Wally were able to meet them at Jitters. He needed to get this bombshell off his chest.

"Shut _up_!" Iris pushed him in the shoulder with manic disbelief.

"Who's Michael?" Wally asked.

"Only the sweetest baby-face cinnamon roll who ever walked the halls at CCU," Iris gushed. "I can't believe Michael Wynters is Captain Cold's son."

"Wynters. His name is _Wynters_ ," Cisco said, voice cranking up a couple octaves as he added, "Boy, they be playing you."

"No, trust me, it's just crazy coincidence," Barry said. "You should have seen them together the other day, it was actually really sweet. Like, Lisa talking about Snart being a good brother sweet. He's trying to be a good dad now, and in return, Michael wants to help him be a better man."

Iris made a wounded noise like watching puppies play. "That is so _cute_."

"Wow, this Michael is enough to make you say something involving Leonard Snart is cute?" Caitlin raised an eyebrow at her.

"He was a doll, seriously. And those eyes—oh," she turned to Barry as she recalled them and no doubt saw the connection to Snart, "the _eyes_."

"The eyes," Barry nodded.

"What about his eyes?" Wally asked.

"Gorgeous, like drown in them blue against mocha skin."

"Okay, we get it," Barry spoke over her, "you can stop now."

"Oh, come on, Barr, you thought he was adorable too," she said, elbows propped on the table with a touch of something in her smile that Barry refused to read as sympathy. "If you'd been the same age and met him freshman year instead, _you_ would have been the ones dating instead of those awful boyfriends you both had."

"Boyfriends?" Cisco repeated.

"Whoa, no. Michael and I never… _would_ never. Please don't ever say that in front of Snart," he said in a frantic hush, "I shudder to think what he'd freeze on me."

Iris giggled, but Cisco was not letting his query go.

"Uh, when were you going to tell us… _boyfriends_?" he gestured to the table at large.

"I knew," Caitlin raised her hand.

Wally shrugged in solidarity.

"Dude," Cisco shot at Barry.

" _Dude_ ," Barry shot right back, "it's not like I ever tried to hide it. I admitted to you that one of my first crushes was Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z."

"Well yeah, man, but _Vegeta_."

Barry and Wally both laughed, while Iris shook her head at Caitlin as if to say she didn't want to know.

All of Barry's crushes were unique in some way—or just plain hopeless if he was counting Iris. Not that he was pining anymore. He'd been the one to turn _her_ down after all, and things were good between them now, better really, because there was nothing left unsaid or hanging over them.

The problem was he didn't know what he wanted now when he'd spent so much time assuming it was Iris. He just knew he wanted something real. At some point, for whatever silly reason, he'd thought he wanted _Vegeta_. Widow's peak. Redeemable villain. Always so _dramatic_. But deep down through his rough exterior, he was one of the better men on the show once given the chance, and a really good father.

Which, completely unrelated, reminded Barry that he needed to tell everyone the other part to this tale.

"Um, okay, so the crazier thing—"

"Linda!" Iris shouted over Barry's shoulder.

He'd almost forgotten Iris invited Linda Park to join them this morning. She'd just recently moved back to Central after reconnecting with Iris online. With Zoom out of the way and almost all the other metas locked up or sent home, she felt it safe enough to return to her old life.

She looked good too, her hair a little longer again, maybe a shade or two lighter, and the lack of homicidal maniacs after her had to help with the general brilliance to her smile.

"Hey," Linda said, hugging Iris eagerly when she intercepted her first, then shooting Barry a look as if to say she'd totally understand if he didn't want to hug his ex.

"Hey, Linda," Barry hugged her anyway. There were no hard feelings or awkwardness as far as he was concerned, and he certainly hoped the same was true for her. "It's great to have you back in town. You remember Cisco and Caitlin. But I don't think you ever met Wally before, did you?" he gestured to the young man as they resettled more close-quartered around the high-top table.

"I don't believe I did," Linda said with that sly charm Barry remembered, extending her hand to Wally, who looked a little struck by her and tongue-tied.

"H-Hi."

"Nice to meet you, Wally. And how do you fit into this rag-tag group?"

"He's my brother," Iris said.

Linda blinked a few times to process that. "I could have sworn you didn't have a brother other than Barry when I last saw you."

"It's a long story," Barry explained.

"We didn't quite get to the long-lost brother conversation over email," Iris said. "I figured it would be better in person."

"Does he know…?" Linda lowered her voice, fingers doing a quick walk across the table like they were _running_.

"Everyone here knows I'm The Flash, Linda," Barry chuckled, "you're good."

"Keeping busy, Barry?" she asked.

"No juicy stories for you if you're back at Picture News, but still a few metas out there and other cases cropping up. Which was why I was surprised you moved back so soon considering—"

"Allen!"

"And that would be our to-go order," Cisco hopped down from his stool. "Linda, pleasure seeing you again. You ladies be nice to our boy now," he patted Wally on the back.

Normally, Wally would have rolled his eyes or made some snarky comment, but he seemed preoccupied with Linda at the table. Barry couldn't say he minded.

"And Wally, we'll totally plan a guy's night once Cisco confirms that Michael is not in fact an even more evil clone of his father."

"Which has yet to be proven," Cisco said.

Wally's broad smile spread across his face. "Sounds awesome, guys."

Linda looked thoroughly confused, but now was not the time to explain.

"We'll see you all later," Barry said and headed to grab their order with all _four_ coffees on a tray.

"I still can't believe we're bringing coffee for _Captain Cold_ ," Cisco said on their way out the door. "And seriously, man, an iced Flash?"

"Michael said he prefers cold coffee."

"Of course he does. Since when are you so accommodating for Snart?"

Barry might not have finished telling everyone else the details, but he had to tell Cisco before this mess got any more tangled. "Okay, so don't freak out, but there is one more thing I need to tell you."

* * *

Cisco had not changed the subject since they left Jitters, even now that they were walking through the mostly empty R&D labs to meet Michael. They'd chosen a time when everyone else should be elsewhere so they could talk in private.

"You fake dating Cold may be the craziest thing I have ever been asked to lie about."

"You don't have to lie," Barry said. "Don't even bring it up. I just needed you to know in case Michael says something. But if he does, feel free to express how you 100% do not support the idea of us as a couple."

"No brainer there, dude. However, will I seem too much like a hypocrite if I immediately ask Michael for Lisa's phone number?"

Barry had to laugh, not that he was even remotely surprised. He would have said _yes, but by all means if you don't care that Snart will eventually find out, ask Michael anyway_ , Michael was there, waving to them from across the room at his now cleaned workspace, though admittedly it was pretty sparse given the theft.

"Did we beat Cold?" Cisco asked, glancing around in suspicion. "That guy is meticulous to the second, so if you're planning some ambush—"

" _Cisco_."

"He's got a few minutes yet," Michael smiled without showing that he was at all bothered by Cisco's distrust. "It's nice to meet you. Barry told me a lot about you, Cisco. And you are the best, Barr, for bringing coffee. I didn't sleep well last night. My mind's too focused on the case."

"You mean the case of your supervillain origin story, _Kid_ Cold," Cisco stared him down.

Michael just laughed. "What, not Mini Fridge? Lieutenant Cold?"

Cisco snapped his fingers. " _Cadet_ Cold."

They both laughed, and Barry relaxed. Michael could win over anyone.

" _Stop_ naming my son."

His father, on the other hand.

The three of them turned toward the disembodied voice coming from the darkest corner of the room where there had to be a hidden door somewhere, or else Snart had actually slinked along the wall just to make his entrance that much more dramatic, which Barry would not put past him.

Slowly, he materialized from out of the shadows, no parka today, just a simple outfit in dark blues and black with a longer trench coat that betrayed the cold gun in its holster on his thigh when it swayed.

Cisco tensed, Barry refrained from rolling his eyes, while Michael seemed downright excited.

"Dad, you were supposed to text me to let you in."

"Figured I'd give the place a trial run." He sauntered up to the work station to join them. "Clearly, you were right. Security here needs work. It's almost as bad as STAR Labs."

"That's funny," Cisco crossed his arms like a shield. "You're hilarious."

"Just letting you know, at either location, I barely broke a sweat. Cisco. Barry. Now," he leaned over the desk and clasped his hands together, "shall we get to work?"

* * *

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Getting Cisco and Snart up to speed on the case went by quickly, since Michael had already covered plenty with his dad, and Barry had gone over several details with Cisco as well. All that remained was the results of the tests Barry had conducted on the few pieces of evidence they had, which would have been easier to explain if he wasn't distracted by the obscene way Snart wrapped his lips around the straw of his coffee.

He had to be making a show of it on purpose, watching Barry intently with each slow _sip_.

"Everything alright, Barry?" he asked without an ounce of innocence.

"No. Yes. _Fine_. Never mind," Barry tore his eyes away from the smug thief, "just glad you're _enjoying_ that coffee so much."

A pleased chuckle left Snart, taking up twice as much space leaning over the table as the rest of them. "Who knew The Flash would be so delicious _on ice_."

"Gross." Cisco wrinkled his nose.

"I thought you said you _didn't_ have a thing for him," Michael said, which seemed to remind Snart that yes, his _son_ was present.

Wait, _thing_? What thing? Barry thought the flirting was just to rile him.

"I _don't_ ," Snart scowled.

"Whatever, Dad," the younger man huffed in irritation, which wasn't _like_ Michael, who defaulted to jovial and pleasant on his worst days. Did he not like The Flash?

"Barry? The _evidence_ ," Cisco urged.

Right. He needed to stop thinking about either Snart and their _likes_.

Continuing his assessment of what he'd found yesterday, Barry eventually ended with, "The strangest thing might be the lack of fibers."

"So, the thief's smart," Snart said.

"You don't understand. We don't always find enough fibers to use for evidence, sure, but they still exist everywhere, even if they're minuscule. This time there was nothing."

"The cleaning crew would have been finished by the time of the theft," Michael said, "and they take their job of sterilizing the labs very seriously."

"Exactly," Barry agreed; with the type of work done at labs like this, they had to clean thoroughly, "so some foreign object meeting that pristine of an environment should have left _something_ behind."

The four of them shared a contemplative glance, but there wasn't much to add at the moment.

"Anything off about the firewall or security protocols?" Barry asked, having already given Cisco a tablet with the technical breakdown.

"Besides how easy this place would be to hack?" Cisco perused the readout, then caught Snart's satisfied smirk. "Shut up, not admitting you're right, just meant for _me_ it would be easy. But other than that, not really. I mean, standard setup, good overall. Only a serious hacker could break into this place with this minimal a trail left behind unless they had an advantage."

"I swear," Michael implored as he had before, "it can't be an inside job."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Michael," Snart said, "but you'll understand if I don't take anyone's good nature to heart. Dig anything up on the roster?" he turned to Barry.

"The only new employee since the last time we vetted Mercury Labs is Michael. And before you ask, yes, I put him through the same ringer I would anyone else, and his record came out squeaky clean."

"You must be so disappointed," Cisco snarked.

Snart cocked his head at him with a dangerous grin. "What about timeframe?"

"Well, we can patch together a fairly accurate idea based on when the cameras went out," Barry said. "If you assume it would take a handful of minutes to get inside, after the cameras went out, only ten minutes passed before the firewall reported a breach. Another handful of minutes to download Michael's files, grab the equipment, and they were gone. So, twenty, twenty-five minutes tops?"

"I'd say more like _twenty-three_ and forty-five seconds, but who's counting?"

Rather than fight Snart on his attention to detail, Barry continued, "They were in a hurry too. I don't think the broken equipment was purposeful. I found a blood sample, but it doesn't match anything in the CCPD database."

"Meta human gene?" Snart asked.

"Can't tell yet. Sample's too small, but I'm having it run at STAR Labs anyway. I should know tomorrow if it pings yes, but even if it doesn't…"

"That wouldn't rule out the possibility. Michael said you assumed it _was_ a meta."

"These days with this clean of a getaway when we know it wasn't _you_ ," Barry teased, "they'd almost have to be superhuman."

"Such flattery," Snart grinned wider.

Cisco cleared his throat, causing both of them to pull up from leaning toward each other over the table.

They really needed to stop bantering, it just came so naturally. Every time one of them fell into it, the other followed course, but as soon as Snart was reminded of _Michael_ , he tensed as if regretting giving into the compulsion.

"Or just common sense," Barry said, wondering what else of Snart's compulsions he'd regret in Michael's presence. "We agree this is too sloppy to be anyone as talented as you, so the parts that make this seem like an expert despite the flaws points at _meta human_ more than luck. No fibers, not even a trace, yet they still cut themselves, so it's not as if they were wearing gloves or something protective."

"You saying our thief works naked?" Cisco snorted. "Wouldn't mind that with certain thieves, amirite?" he waggled an eyebrow, then rudely remembered their mixed company. "I did not say that out loud, please don't shoot me."

Snart's glare was far less friendly this time around given he knew who Cisco meant.

" _That's_ why Aunt Lisa was so interested when I mentioned you," Michael said as if unraveling some hidden puzzle.

"Lisa was interested?"

"The _case_ , gentlemen," Snart said through gritted teeth.

As imperceptibly as he could, Barry tugged Cisco away from Snart to avoid any frozen body parts. "We're at a loss with suspects, but what about intent? What could someone do with this equipment and research? The first option, as we know, is to build a bomb."

"Plenty of easier ways to do that," Michael said.

"So, what sets your research apart that a layman would steal it for when they obviously don't understand the full scope?"

"Build another cold gun?"

"Build a _better_ cold gun."

" _Hey_ ," Cisco took immediate offense.

"Think it's me, huh?" Snart eyed Barry like he expected a secret agenda, but Barry was long past that theory.

" _You_ wouldn't have messed up, remember?"

Snart preened, however subtly, but Barry could always tell when the thief was pleased with himself, which did not help how, thanks to Cisco, now all Barry could think about was Snart stealing something _naked_.

Not the time.

"What would make this new gun better than mine exactly?" Cisco asked with a bitter dose of skepticism.

"You mean _mine_?" Snart shot back.

"No. I don't."

"It'd be safer," Michael put in, garnering both their attentions. "For other people, I mean. Which has nothing to do with why I'm researching this, Dad," he rushed on when Snart raised an eyebrow, "this was my field for years before I met you."

"Then elaborate." Snart flourished his hand across the table.

Barry nodded for Michael to go ahead, because it had dawned on him too that a gun truly capable of absolute zero would be a different beast entirely.

"If absolute zero could be achieved, a gun built on that principle would have the ability to cause the molecules of its target to stop moving—not just freeze, _stop_. The body would be perfectly fine with no damage once the molecules re-animated. That's different from the current gun, which, purely theoretical on my part since I've never _seen it_ ," Michael peered over the table where the gun remained hidden on Snart's thigh, to which he responded with an unimpressed head tilt, "changes the chemical makeup of the target to _become_ ice, or simply blasts them with cold at a lower setting."

"Pretty spot-on," Cisco submitted. "Absolute zero was the goal, just not possible."

" _Yet_ ," Michael flashed his contagious smile. "I also have to assume that The Flash has such an intense metabolism his cells regenerate faster than the cold gun can freeze, which is the only explanation for how he's suffered the brunt of the gun's output and survived when…other people haven't."

Even Barry forgot sometimes that Snart had _killed_ with that gun, and at least three instances had happened in front of him. The truth of that clearly weighed on Michael, but he didn't dwell, didn't condemn or shun, didn't even fully lose his smile, he merely accepted it as fact and moved on for his father's sake.

 _That_ was love, strength, and forgiveness on a level Barry always tried to strive for, if not for the person on the receiving end then for himself—like he'd once done when forgiving Eobard Thawne.

Maybe Thawne, if he'd heard Barry, would have scoffed, called him weak, spouted a dozen epitaphs for why Barry relying on his _heart_ was the reason he'd lose. That brief, silent moment of lacking judgment or hatred from Michael though for something honestly awful that was part of his father's past didn't bring any scorn to Snart's face, just a tense quiver in the crack of his mask like Barry had seen only when the man was at his lowest dealing with Lewis.

Michael really had a profound effect on him, much as he didn't want to let it show. A weakness like Lisa was a weakness, and someone new he didn't want to let down.

"So," Barry patted the table to shatter the strain even Cisco had started to pick up on, "what we're left with is, if someone wanted to create another cold gun, a _different_ kind of cold gun, why, and who would benefit from that?"

"Who wouldn't benefit from stopping time?" Cisco said.

"It wouldn't be like stopping time as a whole," Michael amended, "it would be concentrated to the blast of the gun."

"What else could someone do with that research?" Snart asked.

"Given the nuclear components, quite a bit if they only cared about blind destruction," Michael said, "but I thought we agreed there are easier ways if that's all this person wants."

"I want to be sure we aren't missing any potential threats." Because missing something meant Michael was at risk, and Snart couldn't abide that, which once again, Barry thought of as exceedingly sweet.

"In that case," Michael slapped the desk more fervently than Barry had, "some of my research is wrapped up in tests I've been performing in contained laboratories. My files did mention them, but I have more extensive notes on site. Cisco, why don't you come with me to grab that and we can leave these two to brainstorm anything we've forgotten?"

"Uhh," Barry floundered at the sudden suggestion, "okay."

"Does that mean I get a tour of the Mercury Labs testing facilities?" Cisco darted to Michael's side with hands outstretched, already eager to get his hands on foreign equipment.

"By a pro," Michael grinned. "There's a total sensory deprivation chamber, full sterilization. Don't tell McGee, but a couple times between cleansing cycles, I setup LED lights and played racquetball like an episode of _Next Generation_."

The expression on Cisco's face was one reserved for drunken confessions and new issues of his favorite comic book. "I love you. I love this kid," he turned to Snart while pointing at Michael. "How do you have a son this cool? Shut up," he immediately snapped to point at Snart instead, "I never said that."

Michael laughed, and Barry had to join him. With a pat on Cisco's shoulders to solidify their budding friendship, Michael dragged the engineer away with a final parting smile.

Barry turned his smile to Snart, but the Rogue's eyes were following his son's retreating form with growing suspicion. When he returned his attention to Barry, that sharp brain of his had come upon an answer to a question Barry didn't even know was being asked.

" _That's_ what this is about."

"Umm…what?"

"Barry," Snart stared at him, fingers tapping in slow succession on the table, "don't be naïve. You're an investigator. Look at the evidence. Certainly, both our expertise can be of assistance on this case, but Michael went out of his way to get us together…and left us alone."

A clang sounded in Barry's head as he came to the same conclusion Snart must have. "Oh, he is _not_ Parent Trapping us right now."

"He is."

What a goon Barry was for falling for it this much already, but at least Snart hadn't been too far ahead of him. Still, he couldn't resist griping, "No wonder he got sour about you liking _The Flash_."

Snart really had that unimpressed glare _down_. "That was Lisa talking, not me."

Naturally. More likely than Snart actually having a thing for Barry. He just liked to see him squirm. "This is your fault, you know."

"I'm aware."

"Wow, so you _can_ admit when you're wrong. Never would have guessed." Barry almost added, _and you know your face will_ freeze _that way_ , but refrained.

"What are we going to do about this?" Snart returned to the matter at hand.

"Well if he keeps thinking you have a crush on The Flash, we're off the hook."

"Adorable. You do remember I'm _armed_ ," he shifted to allow a peek at the cold gun.

So much for their rapport. "We do nothing. When he sees that his scheming isn't going anywhere, he'll let it go. Obviously, there's no getting us back together when we were never _together_ in the first place. He'll see how wholly incompatible we are and give it up. Meanwhile, we can still solve the case. And, you know, maybe supe up McGee's security?"

"I haven't agreed to that yet."

"Oh, come on, Snart," Barry moved around the table to close the distance between them. "You'd only be protecting Michael in the long run."

"It's a slippery slope, which is what he's counting on."

"He just wants what's best for you."

Snart sneered without the usual self-control to hide it.

"That came out wrong," Barry said. "He honestly wants your life to be better, safer, _happier_. Nothing like your…" He didn't say 'father', but the missing word hung like a frozen, _dead_ elephant in the room.

"He put you up to this," Snart said with an edge to his tone, leaning into Barry's space more menacingly, "let you in on this whole plot to domesticate me."

"Not the hooking you up with _me_ portion," Barry defended, "but…yeah. Nobody wants their father to be the villain."

 _Wrong_ thing to say, Barry realized as soon as the words left him, because Snart looked honestly hurt for a fraction of a second, something the man never would have allowed prior to meeting Michael. Teetering on the edge of honest emotion made him appear much more like a caged animal than ever before, dangerous and unpredictable, especially with the two of them alone.

But all Barry could think of was how much faith he'd had in his own father, believing without a doubt that his dad couldn't be the bad guy, could never be the villain of any story. Michael had that same faith in Snart, even though, in the past, his story had been different.

"Sorry," Barry said quietly, taking a cautious step back, head bowed for fear of meeting the daggers in Snart's stare.

The matching softness in the other man's voice startled him. "I can compromise. But I need him to understand that does not mean I am going to change. I like my life the way it is."

"You so sure about that?" Barry glanced up with a ready smile only to get trapped by brilliant blue. "C-Coz, uhh…color me surprised, Snart, but…I think you enjoy _this_ ," he gestured to the room at large, "as much as any heist."

Snart smirked with a strain in the expression like he wanted to slough all this sappy good-feeling nonsense off of him. "Keep telling yourself that. And speaking of telling," the tension fell away in the time it took for him to stand taller instead of crowding into Barry's space, "how much of Team Flash knows about all this?"

Barry relaxed, though he was unsure who'd just won that exchange. "Only Cisco knows about the fake dating part. I figured that would blow up quick if I didn't warn him. As for Michael being your son…everyone but Joe."

Snart groaned his displeasure.

"It was going to come up," Barry said, "I'm not lying to my family anymore."

"Except for _West_."

"I'll tell him. Eventually."

A doubtful snort was the response.

They were supposed to be discussing the case, figuring out missed angles or clues as to who was behind this or at least what the person might want, but once again they'd only managed to talk about _each other_ and had somehow ended up gravitating closer again, especially for two men who supposedly couldn't stand each other.

"Aren't you two cozier than expected," a sharp, accented voice declared, prompting Barry to lurch away from Snart.

"Dr. McGee," he all but squeaked at the sight of her stepping out of the same shadows Snart had materialized from when he arrived. Maybe there _was_ a door back there.

"Barry," she said, smiling more congenially than she used to, "I have asked you repeatedly to call me 'Tina'."

Falling prey to helpless chuckles, Barry reminded himself that she was his father's _girlfriend_ now.

"Short for anything, doc?" Snart leaned over the table again.

" _You_ , Mr. Snart," McGee shifted to frosty disapproval fast enough to give even _Captain Cold_ a run for his money, "may call me Dr. McGee." Glancing between them, she asked curiously, "Is Michael aware—"

"That I'm The Flash?" Barry filled in, causing Snart to flinch in surprise. "No. Snart does though."

"Interesting choice for a confidant."

"It's complicated."

"I'll keep that secret between us then. I assume you'll be informing your father of this," she added with a note of motherly authority, which Barry honestly _loved_ because the closest he'd had to that sort of tone since his own mother died was Caitlin.

"Yes, I'll tell Dad. Joe…not right away, mostly because of the legal issues involving Snart. Thank you for being so understanding about that."

"Understanding has nothing to do with it," she said, "I want to protect my investments, which includes Michael. If you're the man to help accomplish that, Mr. Snart," she turned to him, the table the only barrier between their matching stares, "so be it. It would be unfortunate if you didn't care about your son's future here, but I get the impression that won't be a problem."

Barry hadn't thought much about Michael telling McGee his father's identity—though how else could he suggest Snart overhaul the security measures?—but he should have expected nothing could rattle Tina McGee, not even Captain Cold on her property.

She always seemed so in control, even when being targeted by psycho meta humans. He needed to ask her how she remained poised all the time, though it was probably a British thing.

"I'll behave," Snart said, possibly contemplating how to push McGee's boundaries after that veiled threat but thinking better of it when he reminded himself this was his son's _boss_. "Still considering the offer to make this place more impenetrable. But if I do take that on and prove successful, which I _would_ , I expect to be compensated."

McGee smiled thinly. "Of course, handsomely. _If_ you're successful. Barry," she concluded with a nod and headed out the same we she'd come in, fading into the shadows again like an entirely different sort of supervillain.

Barry got why his father liked her.

"Even _she_ knows, huh?" Snart remarked once she had gone.

"She figured it out on her own."

"Can't imagine how."

"Look, I—"

"Bit of advice?" Snart spread his arms to either edge of the table to drape himself across it as if claiming every inch as his own. "Play things closer to the cuff. The last thing we need is for _Michael_ to figure it out next. You can bet this truce," he pointed flimsily between them, "won't last much longer if he does."

Always two steps forward, one step back with this guy. "I'm going to remind myself that that _wasn't_ a threat, just you being protective of your son and not wanting him mixed up in anything dangerous. I'm not going to tell him," Barry restated with a close lean into Snart's space. "I don't just _tell_ people."

"Yet so many know."

" _You_ blackmailed me."

A fresh smirk teased at Snart's lips. "What's your excuse for everyone else?"

 _Urg_. What was taking Michael and Cisco so long, Barry wondered as he crossed his arms to keep from shoving Snart like a child on the playground. "Can we focus on something else?"

"Like the _case_?" Snart stated the obvious. "Please do."

That should have been the right suggestion, but considering this was the first time they'd been alone since a few brief moments at the café the other day, this might be the only chance Barry was going to get to make sure they solidified the lie they had to maintain.

"Actually, first, maybe we should get our story straight," he said, dropping his confrontational pose. "Since you had to create this crazy exes story, we should at least have a few parts of that history at the ready in case Michael brings it up again. Hopefully, over time, he'll forget all about this and we can move on, rarely if ever see each other except in passing when Michael and I hang out—"

"Or you're unsuccessfully trying to thwart one of my bank heists?"

"Helpful," Barry deadpanned. "So helpful."

"Okay, Barry," Snart acknowledged, drawing back to concede part of the table's surface area. "What should we get straight then? Have we slept together?"

" _No_ ," Barry answered maybe too quickly, considering the smirk that twisted around Snart's mouth. "You said we only dated a short time, and I don't put out that quickly."

"I'm sure not." He had such an infuriatingly _sexy_ chuckle. "First kiss then?"

That was a fair enough question, and it did have the potential to come up if Michael was set on getting them together, which on its own was ludicrous, but they were the ones who'd walked into this situation. Michael was merely trying to be helpful and supportive, thinking the only reason they broke up was because of logistics.

The idea of Barry Allen and Leonard Snart _dating_ was much more complicated than that.

"How about…when you were worried about Lisa?" Barry suggested. "The best lies are based on truth so…in Saint in Sinners? When I followed you there. You didn't actually open up, since you don't _do_ that, but it was obvious you were worried and that made me start to see you differently," he shrugged, realizing he might be giving up too much truth given the way Snart's eyebrows arched, "so even though you were being standoffish and trying to push me away, I…kissed you. Mostly to shut you up."

Snart huffed at the lame attempt at subterfuge but nodded slowly as if mulling over that scenario. "Thought about doing that for real, did you?"

"Find a way to shut you up?" Barry jabbed back. "Always. You're the one who stands so close and…" Crap, he was giving too much away again, especially since Snart kept gravitating into his orbit. How did Snart always manage that? It wasn't as if _Barry_ was the one shifting unconsciously closer.

"And _what_?" Snart pressed.

"You know. Do that…bedroom eyes, undress me thing."

"Excuse me?"

"The eye-glance thing," Barry spat far too loudly, before dropping his voice to an opposing hush, "like you can see right through my suit."

Snart's lips had no right to look that good whether grinning, sneering, or simply resting in contemplation. "The way the suit hugs you doesn't leave much to the imagination," he said, dropping his eyes down Barry's body and flicking them back to his face in the span of seconds.

"See! You just did it."

A more pleased twist to his smirk replied. "So our first kiss was a culmination of sexual tension because of how I _look_ at you," Snart moved that much closer to Barry—inappropriately, no personal space or boundaries whatsoever kind of close, "finally set off when you saw some…vulnerability peek through?"

Was he admitting to be vulnerable now? _Michael_ was vulnerability for Snart, no way around it, this whole situation was with an unknown thief out there and Snart having to work with former enemies to keep his son safe. He couldn't deny that without denying Michael, and that didn't seem to be something Snart was willing to do.

Barry swallowed, because they'd covered the gamut of emotions in the few minutes they'd been left alone, and he wasn't sure where they were ending up. Snart was just teasing him, just playing the game, admitting he needed Barry in this case and that he'd play nice, but not actually _asking_ for…

"Uhh…y-yeah," Barry stammered, telling himself to look at Snart's eyes, not his lips— _not his lips_. "Guess that combination is a weakness for me." Damn it, _don't admit that!_

"A weakness? Really?" Snart certainly wasn't stopping himself from eyeing _Barry's_ lips. "Keep giving me ammunition, Scarlet, and I might have to use it on you."

The room was far too quiet and dim for Barry to focus on anything other than the man mere inches in front of him, daring him to call his bluff.

"I swear, man, the magnet at STAR Labs is two- _hundred_ times stronger than that."

"No way! You _have_ to show me."

Barry zipped backward like he'd been caught doing something _wicked_ , far more swiftly than he'd moved when McGee came in, maybe even with a flicker of power in the motion, though neither Cisco nor Michael had noticed anything since they were animatedly engaged with each other—and since Barry and Snart hadn't been _doing anything_.

Yet.

The one consolation was that Snart seemed just as startled by the interruption, though whether he was relieved or disappointed Barry couldn't tell.

" _Dude_ ," Cisco said good-naturedly when they reached the table, each carrying several documents and Michael holding an extra tablet, "the universe has almost made up for creating _you_ by creating _him_."

Snart fixed his blank expression into a glower.

"Mission accomplished," Michael chuckled, "but it's only a fair trade if I get to see STAR Labs next."

" _No_ ," Snart declared.

"Actually, _yes_ ," Cisco countered, piling up the extra research they'd gathered onto the table. "Sorry, Cold, but until we have more evidence or some sign of what this thief has planned, the next best way to determine what they're after with Kid Cold's research is to go over _my_ initial research at STAR Labs."

" _Stop_ calling him that," Snart snarled, but Cisco held his ground.

"I'm partial to Cadet Cold too. Frankly, I'm torn," he said with all the confidence he usually lost whenever Cold got _murdery_. Getting to know Michael must have made him feel like he had a buffer, and Barry couldn't entirely say that was untrue.

"Dad, come on," Michael stepped in to mediate, "this is for the case. It's just a building."

That was when Barry noticed something he should have recognized right away. Michael never touched Snart. He touched everyone, he was just that sort of guy—hand on an arm or shoulder or gentle shove; a handshake, a hug—but while he'd already done several of those things with Cisco who he'd just met, he held back with Snart every time no matter how close they were standing.

Michael _got_ his dad, understood his boundaries and abstained, despite his own nature. Even when Snart closed the space between himself and someone else to nearly nothing, there was always that bubble that didn't want to be breached, that maybe a _kiss_ could sneak past, a heated touch, a mindless night in a dark room, but real intimacy was rejected.

The weird thing was, Barry could have sworn Snart cringed whenever Michael chose _not_ to reach out, like he wished he could have more but didn't know how to ask.

" _Please_ , Dad," Michael said again. "Unless you're willing to hand over your gun?"

Unimpressed didn't cover it this time, more like _you want to say that again?_

"I didn't think so. I'm not an idiot, okay, I get what the real problem is. STAR Labs is The Flash's base of operations," Michael said as matter-of-fact as you like. "Everybody knows that. I'm sure Cisco could ask if it's okay and make sure he stays away if this is for the good of the city, right?"

Cisco took a second to recover from 'everybody knows STAR Labs is The Flash's base of operations' but finally said, "Uh…yeah, man, we're like totally tight. I can ask. If that's good enough for Cold?"

The Rogue was caught between logic and his son's pleading expression. "Fine. As long as Flash stays out of it, we can reconvene at STAR Labs."

"Awesome," Michael said in triumph, knocking Cisco's shoulder with his own, already a pair to be reckoned with, Barry could tell. "It'll be so worth it, Dad, you'll see."

The time blinked at Barry from the second tablet Michael tossed onto the table, and he realized how late it had gotten. "Shoot, hey," he grabbed the others' attention, "I need to check in at work. We'll pick this up tomorrow?"

"I'm gonna hang with Michael a bit longer," Cisco said, already pouring over the research notes the thief hadn't managed to steal. "We'll figure out a time to meet later."

"Wonderful," Snart said with an irritated tap of his fingers.

"You can walk Barry out, right, Dad?" Michael beamed at them, positively shameful in his scheming now that Barry knew what was going on, but it was too exhausting to argue against, and Michael and Cisco fell right back into wherever their conversation had left off, leaving Barry and Snart _out_.

With a shrug, Barry turned on his heels to head for the exit, and Snart fell into step beside him.

"This is going to get tiring," he muttered.

Barry wasn't sure if he should agree or bring up the moment they'd almost, not really shared before Cisco and Michael returned. It hadn't _really_ been a moment. Had it? Just Snart up to his usual tricks, leading Barry along to make the game more fun. That had to be all it was.

Then again, it was a little telling that the first excuse Snart had been able to think of for why they knew each other was them _dating_ instead of something benign. Like maybe he'd thought about it before. Or maybe Lisa's teasing wasn't just Lisa being _Lisa_ but something more…real.

Or maybe Barry was projecting because he was lonely, it had been a while, and Snart looked really good in dark colors.

"Um…so, uhh—"

His phone buzzed to save him from the complete blank his mind had just been, and he gratefully pulled it from his pocket to check his texts.

It was from the Labs, from Caitlin.

META HUMAN ALERT – BLACK SIREN AT THE DOCKS

 _Shit_. Siren had escaped during her prison transfer back to Earth-2. Barry hadn't missed another transfer since, and he'd been itching to get his hands on the murderous double of their friend. Laurel's memory deserved better.

"Work or… _work_?" Snart inclined his head to steal a peek.

Barry didn't try to hide the message. "Doppelganger. A bad one. She's—"

"I know who she is. DA Lance's less than amiable twin. _And_ a notable thief…" he trailed with a pointed narrowing of his gaze.

"You don't think…" Barry slowed his pace.

"Worth checking out."

"Wait, you mean…" Barry stopped altogether when he caught onto Snart's implication, "…together?"

"Well I'd hate to disappoint my _son_. He's worked so hard on this plot."

Barry fought a grin that only Leonard Snart could conjure. Definitely teasing him. "Fine. But my rules—"

" _My_ rules," Snart refuted, raising a hand to twirl a finger in Barry's face, "your amendments. I won't _kill_ her. Maim…"

"Not funny."

"Who's joking?" Snart winked, which should _not_ have caused goosebumps to roll like dominoes across his skin.

He really needed to stop letting Snart affect him so much.

"You coming?" Snart backed up down the hallway, then spun about to proceed toward the elevators.

Barry had no idea how he'd ended up about to partner with Captain Cold for a Flash call, but he was fairly certain _Michael_ was to blame. "Hey! Wait up!"

* * *

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

Len allowed the sense of self-satisfaction to wash over him at having beaten Barry to their rendezvous point. Sure, he'd been able to head straight to the docks from Mercury Labs on his motorcycle, while Barry had to zip back to base to grab his suit, but it was still gratifying and twitched up the corners of his lips.

Parking his bike behind a shipping container, a specific one marked 'Smoak Industries' that Barry had mentioned, Len positioned himself accordingly to look as put out as possible at having to wait.

In actuality, he only waited thirteen more seconds before the smell of ozone assaulted his senses, ankles crossed as he leaned against his bike, right hand tapping his cold gun with feigned impatience. He'd worn his goggles while driving and kept them on, not quite in full costume for the occasion, but that might be for the better if anyone saw him aiding The Flash.

"Fastest man alive and can't keep a schedule," Len chided him, holding back the pleasant shiver he felt whenever the shockwave of that lightning rippled over him.

The way Barry pouted like a school boy despite being a powerhouse with godlike abilities undermined his slick and sexy appearance—somewhat. "You travelled a few _blocks_. I travelled sixteen miles both ways and had to change clothes."

"It's a wonder you catch any criminals with that many excuses to trip over."

The pout transformed into an unfairly attractive scowl, but before Barry could comment, a loud rumble sounded from about three inches beneath his Flash symbol. Going red from embarrassment, his hands flinched to cover his midsection.

"Is your _stomach_ growling?" Len asked, half amazed and half seriously amused.

"We were at Mercury Labs for hours!" Barry defended. "It's lunch time! And I need a lot of calories to fuel my powers."

"So, if you fall on your face, you're blaming blood sugar?"

"I grabbed a snack at the Labs," he said, producing what appeared to be a homemade protein bar since it wasn't in a normal wrapper but a plastic sandwich bag.

A moment later, the bar vanished in a blink, which should have been _disgusting_ , yet Len was more fascinated than revolted at the speed-eating, and the remaining crumb left on the side of Barry's mouth, which was far too enticing to ignore.

He reached with his gloved hand to brush it away, voluntarily touching The Flash's _lips_ , however briefly and separated by the leather covering his thumb.

The peek of skin through Barry's cowl darkened, "Th-Thanks," and he drew back, letting the plastic bag flutter to the ground.

Glowering at him, Len bent to retrieve it and shoved it back at his nemesis. "There's a trash can right behind you, _hero_."

"You're lecturing _me_ on good behavior? We're in a rush!" Barry gestured around the shipping container where scuffling and shouts could be heard in close proximity.

Len pointed at the trash can literally a meter behind Barry; no excuses. A little litter was expected in a big city—and Len loved his city—but being that rushed with a trash can _right there_ was simply careless.

Barry huffed in exasperation but disposed of the bag in half a second, barely a blink, which further proved Len's point.

" _Now_ ," he said, drawing his cold gun from its holster with a ready grin, "you're the one who's faced this woman before. How should we proceed?"

"Whatever you do, don't get directly in front of her," Barry said. "If she lets loose a scream too close to you, she could cause serious damage, or cause damage to your gun."

"Noted. What about additional men on her side?"

"Uhh…" Barry blinked at him dumbly.

"On an opposing side? _Civilians_ involved?"

"I don't know, I just got here!"

Len doubted he could roll his eyes any harder. "Then use that nifty power of yours to do reconnaissance before jumping in blind. Quick peek," he motioned up the side of the shipping container, "get a lay of the land, don't let anyone see you."

"Right," Barry nodded, as if pleased to have direction.

A flicker of lightning and blur of red later, he returned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Siren's close, maybe two containers _that_ way," he pointed through the container at Len's back. "She's got four men. The men they're fighting, I think Mendoza runners since I helped book one of them last year, are six total, one wounded, with two civilian dock workers hidden further down."

"Anything else?"

"No?"

Len would have preferred that hadn't sounded so much like a question. "No little voice in your ear with added input?"

Barry scowled. "We left Cisco at Mercury Labs, and Caitlin was just heading to _STAR_ Labs when she sent that alert. _You're_ the little voice today, Snart."

To be fair, Len had said they'd play by _his_ rules. Who was he to deny Barry for going along with that so readily? "Good. Might actually be productive for once. You take direction from your team," he patted his gun against his opposing palm, "try taking some from me. Are the civilians in immediate danger, since I know you'll worry about them?"

"No, they should be good if they stay down."

"Then follow my lead."

Flattening himself to the container, Len moved swiftly along the side until he reached the corner, peered out to ensure the way was clear, then darted forward to the next container down. Even from there, he could see most of the commotion unfolding—a standstill now, Siren talking big to prevent a firefight from destroying the shipment situated between the two groups, and the Mendozas talking bigger to prove they weren't afraid of metas.

Definitely Mendozas. Maybe Siren was here instead of in Star City hoping to get one over on a _weaker_ subset of organized crime. Little did she know, the real players in Central were far more lethal than some charlatan using magic tricks.

Must be smuggling something with a normal shipment to make this much fuss in the middle of the day, probably headed to Keystone, where a ferry would garner less attention than moving something in trucks or vans. Drugs? More like guns or other contraband. Maybe something to offset the missed components from the failed heist at Mercury Labs.

"Last chance," Siren was saying, "I'm offering an 80/20 split to let you walk away. I'm not usually so generous. I'd take the deal."

The leader on the Mendoza side sneered. "We don't bow down to meta freak _bitches_."

Barry hovered closer to Len as if standing taller in response to that callous name-calling, or maybe he was simply attuned to how volatile Siren was about to react. Those black-painted lips were a cruel kind of pretty when she smiled.

"Pity. 100/0 then and you'll be _limping_ off these docks. Assuming you can crawl." She took a breath, and Len turned his head to anticipate the glass shattering scream to follow.

" _Snart_ ," Barry chastised him for—what, bracing himself?—before a blur of red and gold zipped past him into the fray.

The shockwave of Siren's cry cut off before it could begin, ricocheted down the docks past the men to hit a few empty containers with a _bang_ as Barry tackled her. Damn bleeding heart. The city could have stood to lose a few gangbangers, but even they counted as innocents to these hero types apparently.

Not one to be left out, Len revealed himself with a salute and a smile to the startled men.

"Not so quick on your feet, boys?" he said and proceeded to ice the ground between them so that as soon as the first attempted to step forward, he slipped, flailed, and took the rest of his fellows down with him.

That never got old.

Ducking behind the second container and moving around it to avoid the icy path he'd created, Len listened carefully for any fresh screams, flinching at the echo of one right before _Barry_ went soaring into the air past him and slammed into a waiting delivery truck like a ton of cement blocks.

 _Don't_ get caught in her scream. Len wouldn't fair nearly as well as a rapid-healing twenty-something.

Firing off a stream of cold from his gun in warning, Len dove across the empty expanse in the wake of icy blue, glancing left to catch a glimpse of Siren's location, then right to make sure Barry wasn't unconscious, before he reached the next container. He could see the civilians now, not far away, still trying to stay hidden, and nodded at them to keep doing just that.

Siren had appeared startled by his blast but also fully recovered from Barry's tackle. If he'd waited for Len to call the shots, they could have made a better play.

"You gonna lie around all day?" Len called to the groaning boy on the ground.

Barry lifted his head with a glare before looking alarmed and rolling at lightning speed to reach the cover of the container just as another scream knocked the truck back several feet. He flashed to his feet just as quickly, but started in on Len.

"You were going to let her _pulverize_ those men."

"They would have lived. Probably. You want to save _them_ ," he indicated the two huddled and quaking dock workers, "you need to take your time, think before you run in half-cocked."

"Oh Flash!" Siren called with the slow clip of her heeled boots on concrete. "Did you miss me that much? Why don't you come over here so I can whisper in your ear? And who's that with you? Ice and lightning have me all a-shiver."

Len was starting to like this woman, while Barry looked mostly annoyed.

"Any suggestions?" he asked.

"Move us back around that way," Len signaled further down the docks, "past the civilians to the other side. Now."

To Barry's credit, he didn't hesitate to follow orders when he agreed. The world blinked out of existence and reemerged anew, a thrill of movement that made Len lose his equilibrium but was like the best kind of carnival ride.

Now, they stood behind the fallen men ahead on their right and Siren on their left stalking away from them toward the spot she'd last seen them.

A few Mendoza men got away from the ice and took off running, causing their leader to curse and one of Siren's men to lift his gun to shoot them in the back, which of course, Barry couldn't let stand and flashed ahead to disarm him. That would have worked out fine if not for the ice.

As Barry slid and landed on his ass amidst his enemies, Len took advantage to get a good shot at Siren from behind. He dashed forward, squared his aim, and—oomph!—felt the wind knocked from him as he hit the ground. Bloody speedster.

"No direct hits," Barry said, holding Len down after clobbering him.

"Next one might be at _you_ ," Len snarled, but at least he'd managed to hang onto his gun. "I have a _blast_ setting remember?"

"Oh." Barry had the decency to look guilty.

Then the start of a fresh scream warned him to look up, but the fear on his face, all-encompassing as it was, was not for himself. Len had seen worry in Barry's eyes for civilians, for the goons about to shoot each other a moment ago, even for Siren herself, but as his eyes dropped to Len in the split second before the scream would reach them, his terror was far more desperate.

The air squeezed from Len's lungs a second time and the world spun, leaving him startlingly dizzy as Barry rolled them _together_ out of harm's way as Siren's scream tore up more of the docks. From one moment to the next, Len was in the same position but in an entirely different location. Still, the same view appeared above him when Barry raised his head.

His eyes were quite _green_ , body warm even through the suit, especially his hands uncoiling from Len's waist _inside_ the parka from their tumble, with one finding leverage at his hip. A knee was planted between Len's legs and they were so _close_ , closer than they'd ever been, touching in so many places. With the cold gun tucked close to Len's body, he should have had a pun ready— _trust me, I am_ not _happy to see you_ —but his mind went blank.

The din of their surroundings encroached and Barry's head flinched toward the downed men near them—who weren't down anymore but standing and a few of them were pointing their guns!

Whipping his own weapon across his chest, Len dared the men to make a move with his unforgiving stare. "Don't even think about it."

A glance passed between Siren's men and the Mendozas, and one smart retreat later, Len and Barry were alone.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Siren called sing-song, not realizing she'd been abandoned.

Moving swiftly, they scrambled to their feet, but before Barry could make a mad dash after the meta, Len clutched his arm to hold him back.

"Wait. I have an idea."

Barry hesitated, a small frown marring his features before he took a breath and nodded. _Good boy._

"Hey Songbird!" Len called from their cover as her clicking heels advanced once more. "You take requests?"

A pleased chuckle responded. "You offering a trade? Your life for The Flash?"

"Tempting," Len said, to which Barry glowered at him, "but I was wondering if you knew the words to 'Deep Freeze'."

Darting past Barry, Len exposed himself to Siren's view, swung his gun forward, and just as she prepared another scream, he fired head-on like they were playing Chicken and neither was about to back down.

The sound waves of her impressive vocals hit the beam of ice like a car hitting a brick wall—only the _scream_ was the wall, while Len's ice exploded outward and up it like the obliterated front end of a vehicle, spreading along the invisible surface astoundingly fast until an _actual_ wall of ice had been erected, large enough to cover Len in its shadow.

Of course, as soon as Siren stopped screaming, the momentum stopped with it, leaving nothing to hold the ice in place.

 _Not_ exactly what Len had anticipated.

"Snart!" Barry cried, zipping to his side and watching with wide gaping horror as the thirty-by-thirty oval ice wall at least six inches thick started to fall out of the air toward _them_.

Prepared to dive to the side, whether Barry reacted fast enough to flash them to safety or not, Len was surprised, though maybe shouldn't have been, when Barry backed up to run _forward_ with enough speed that even the barest tap on the center of the ice caused it to fall _away_ from them instead.

This time the scream that left Siren wasn't supersonic, more like a squeak as the ice landed, cracked and mostly shattered, right on top of her.

Not enough to kill her, or even seriously injure her most likely, though she was definitely unconscious and might have a concussion, and the crates and containers nearby had suffered some serious damage.

Stepping forward to come parallel with a cringing Barry, Len nodded his approval. "Technically that was your fault."

Barry's infuriated stare was worth the comment.

With a shake of his head, the boy flashed forward to toss away ice debris from atop Siren and checked to make sure her pulse was steady. His sigh of relief proved she was fine, and the men from both sides had long since fled, meaning the day was won.

"'Deep Freeze', really?" Barry shot at Len as he cleared away more ice to better lift the woman's prone body. "That song has like four lines of lyrics."

"You know your Judas Priest, do you? There's hope for you yet, Scarlet."

"Says the guy who plays 'Cold as Ice' as a theme song."

Len smirked, not bothering to hide the expression since Barry was occupied hoisting Siren from the ground. It wasn't a song really, given its length, but Len still enjoyed the words.

 _I still get this awful feeling  
When the snow falls to the ground  
It still sends my senses reeling  
Telling winter, come to town_

"Flash!" an unknown voice had Len spinning around with gun charging, until he spotted the dock workers coming out of hiding with relieved and jubilant faces.

"You saved our lives!" the second one said. "You too, Cold. Nice to see you two working together this time."

"We're not—" Len tried, but the pair took off for safety before he could finish.

Barry snickered, which was somehow more maddening muffled by the body of a woman over his shoulder. "On the bright side, Snart, if you don't want any rumors spreading about switching sides, I can still blame you for the property damage."

Len was not amused—even if he was a little.

* * *

Siren was finally awake, banging on the glass of her cell in the Pipeline at STAR Labs, temporary housing until she was escorted back to her own world. She'd been outfitted with power dampening handcuffs, so even within the cell she couldn't scream with quite the same resonance.

Len stood back with Barry, watching her, letting her sweat a little, before they questioned her about her motives, though it was unlikely she had anything to do with Mercury Labs considering the contraband at the docks had turned out to be smuggled artefacts from Bialya.

"We can still ask her," Barry said, cowl remaining in place for Siren's sake.

"Because she will be _so_ forthcoming."

"We can pretend we're willing to make a deal, see if she admits to anything."

"Lying, Barry?" Len inclined his head at the younger man. "I'm almost impressed."

That adorable blush and sideways smile made Len think about the fear he'd seen in Barry at the docks. Maybe it was only peripheral, not wanting his friend to lose a father after losing his mother, because Barry understood that kind of loss.

And Barry was Michael's _friend_. While Barry and Len were…something else.

"Listen," Barry said, keeping his eyes turned away guiltily, "back at the docks…"

"You didn't trust me. I understand."

"With innocent people, I trust you. With other criminals—"

"I have some sense of self-preservation?" Len snapped back. "I told you I wouldn't kill her. Killing her wouldn't get us any answers."

"I'm sorry," Barry conceded—too easily really. "What I'm trying to say is…I _should have_ trusted you."

"No." Len turned to face him, head-on and direct. "You shouldn't."

"Can't have it both ways, Snart," Barry met his gaze with a sadder smile.

The thing was, living in two worlds, having it both ways, was exactly what Len was trying to do with Michael. How tenuous a balance that was became clearer after donning his Cold persona and wielding his gun again, but he wasn't willing to give up either part of his life.

Barry pressed a button on the console to the main cell, allowing for two-way radio and the reverberation of Siren's pounding against the glass. "You're not breaking out of there," he said. "You already know that."

Her hands dropped with a sigh of frustration. "Guess I'll just wait for the next transfer then."

"Won't be that easy this time. No sneaky screams are getting out while you're wearing those cuffs, and I'll be here to watch over you the entire time."

"How chivalrous." Never once did she break character—or eye contact.

Len would have liked her on his team if not for that pesky habit of homicide. "As entertaining as you may be, my dear, I don't care whether you're in this city or somewhere else. I only want to know if there were any other heists you committed this week."

"Well," she said, exuding false enthusiasm, "there have been so many, it's hard to say."

"Mercury Labs?" Barry asked.

She tilted her head as if to mull it over. "I read about that one. Pretty amateur, even if they got away clean, given the details in the papers. I'd love to take credit and all, boys, but if you're looking for the culprit, it wasn't me. I work for buyers. All I care about for myself is the payout. And no one in Central City is paying for science experiments."

Len prided himself on his ability to read people; she wasn't lying. With a subtle jerk of his head back down the Pipeline, he indicated it was time to leave, and Barry turned about to obey.

"But!" Siren called after them. "Maybe some of the specifics reminded me of someone."

"Who?" Barry turned halfway to peer back at her.

"Why would I just _tell_ you?"

"I'm not letting you out of that cell."

"Then I guess I don't remember anything."

Barry jeered as he looked to Len. "She'd lie even if she did know something."

Likely true, but Len wondered. "Give us a moment."

"Are you serious?" Barry balked. "No way."

"I can't open the cell without clearance. All I can do is talk. Thought you wanted to trust me."

"Thought _you_ said I shouldn't," Barry crossed his arms in indignation.

"Figured we'd agree to disagree on that," Len grinned.

A scoff responded, but like a true Boy Scout, Barry caved in honor of Len's apparent 'gooey center' and headed down the Pipeline to leave them alone.

"Don't get excited," Len said when he approached the cell more closely, eyeing the femme fatale in all black with curious scrutiny. "I'm not busting you out. However, maybe I can let you in on a trick to get out of those cuffs, on one condition," he raised a finger to indicate his point, "that you wait to get out of them until _after_ you've traveled through that fancy portal of theirs back to your own world. All I want after that is information."

Siren considered the offer at an unhurried pace. "That's not enough to get you a name."

"Fine. I'll take a hint then, and if I like it, I'll give _you_ one in return."

"Could be someone from my world," she shrugged, playing this carefully. "Could be that same person from this world, I don't know all the doubles. But if it's who I'm thinking, you're looking for a meta."

"We already know that, but thanks anyway." Len made to turn around.

"A _deadly_ one," she said. "Can cut through just about anything."

Now, Len had to decide how much of this was only fluff and what might be useful. "There wasn't anything _cut_ at the scene."

"You sure? Or was the damage so fine, the CCPD couldn't see it?"

Interesting detail. Maybe it was time to return to Barry's forensics report, and if there was nothing there, perhaps the crime scene could still prove enlightening.

"Worth anything?" Siren draped herself on the glass.

Len had to admit, he liked her style, but this was his _son_ caught in the middle, and a name or something more solid would have been preferable. "Not today."

Her howls followed him down the Pipeline after turning his back on her, but not once did she offer more information. He'd get along fine with what he had now that he knew this was likely an _Earth-2_ meta, or at least a double with similar powers.

"Ramon has that meta human database, doesn't he?" Len asked as he entered the main room to find Barry hovering over Snow at the computer terminal. Once he came around to stand beside them, he saw that the pair had been watching the cell, and he could still hear Siren's voice over the speakers. "Eavesdropping? How unbecoming."

"Would you really have told her how to get out of those cuffs?" Barry asked, cowl finally drawn back to reveal his boyish features.

"If her information had been worthwhile."

Barry always looked so deliciously riled and entertained by Len at the same time.

"She might have been lying," Snow said, "but we can search the database anyway filtered to meta humans with offensive abilities, then further narrowed to remaining breachers from Earth-2."

"Do it. Thanks, Caitlin," Barry said in earnest.

"Of course. And Snart?" she said, turning off the speakers to Siren's cell and rising from her chair with a tablet in hand. "Thanks for helping today. Aside from all your _talk_ , maybe you're not so bad."

Len would have protested if she hadn't spun right then to head the opposite direction across the room, leaving his gaze to land on Barry's smug face. "One 'I told you so' at any point during this _temporary_ team-up and I am icing the first bit of exposed skin I see."

"Expecting a sneak peek?" Barry tittered in delight, only to look instantly regretful considering the more blatant flirtation in the words.

If only it were that easy. But Barry didn't _mean_ any of this. He bantered because it was their way. If Len ever pushed, crossed the line, Barry would remember all the reasons their _fake_ relationship had ended so they never had to waste their time on a real one.

Len needed to get out of there, get some lunch, get his head on straight, and consider his next move beyond meeting back at STAR Labs tomorrow to appease his son.

All that aside, he couldn't let Barry have the last word.

"Scarlet," he said, leaning into Barry's space just to watch the way his skin flushed and how he instinctively held his ground, "don't ask questions like that unless you're prepared for the answer."

A noticeable swallow moved the Adam's apple along Barry's throat. He didn't say anything or even open his mouth to try. Figured. Taking the silence for his dismissal, Len turned to head for the exit.

"Snart, wait!" Barry followed after he'd reached the doorway to the corridor out, cheating with a spark of lightning. Len didn't bother slowing down. "You know," Barry kept pace with him anyway, "you could do this full time."

 _There he went again._ "And _you_ know my answer to playing nice."

"Yeah, but the reasons you used to rattle off are bullshit. You enjoy it," Barry listed on gloved fingers, "you're good at it, you love the thrill. Helping me once in a while and doing security work for companies like Mercury Labs would still allow for all that, just with less chance of getting shot at by police. And while that might lower the thrill for you, it would also keep you alive for your son."

Coming to a stuttering halt just as the elevator doors appeared around the bend, Len whirled to face Barry and fixed him with a stern stare. "Listen closely. I do this on the regular, my enemies figure I've gone soft and come after _my family_ , which now includes a boy who is not a part of our world."

"I hate to tell you this, Snart," Barry said with a twinge of sympathy, "but yes he is. It doesn't matter what side your enemies think you're on, Michael is at risk _because you have enemies_. But if you gave _this_ a chance," he gestured to comprise STAR Labs, "you'd have a few more friends."

Friends. Like it was that easy.

Moving forward to back Barry against the corridor wall, Len kept his expression neutral. "I will break into Mercury Labs, deep-dive into their current security, see what I can find. _End_ of the conversation. Someone ever tries to flatten our city, you can call. Stuff like this," he gestured as Barry had but with a touch more flair, "when my son _isn't_ involved, you're on your own. Got it?"

"Compromise," Barry nodded, though with an unfair amount of self-satisfaction.

"Compromise," Len said.

"You might end up liking this more than you think, you know. Maybe you'll change your mind."

"Don't count on it."

That smile though, as if Barry didn't want to _like_ Len so much but couldn't help it, rumbled Len's stomach with pleasant flutters he had no patience for because they could never lead anywhere good.

"See you tomorrow, Barry," he said and turned for the elevator.

* * *

It was supposed to be easy—the breaking and entering part anyway, without raising too much suspicion about the culprit. And it had been. The hard part would be figuring out the research and notes to finish a prototype gun as planned. It didn't have to work perfectly. In fact, it only had to work once.

Maybe it would have been that simple, too, if crucial elements to the research and equipment weren't still back at Mercury Labs.

There had to be another way, but no other outfit, not STAR Labs or any facility nearby, would have the right components or the knowledge documented to pull this off. A second theft was the only option, but with Barry Allen, _The Flash himself_ , working on solving the case, getting back in there could prove troublesome, especially with Cold lurking around. The trick would be to hold back, bide a little more time, and wait for the right moment to strike.

This _Michael Wynters_ had to have some weakness to exploit, it just needed to be discovered.

* * *

"I'm home!" Barry called as he entered the house to the smell of—mmm, Mexican Lasagna. Dad must have cooked tonight. Barry's mother loved that recipe.

"In here, slugger!" Henry called from the dining room, visible sitting at the table once Barry had hung up his coat and messenger bag and walked past the sofa.

"Hey, Dad. Am I that late, did you eat without me?"

"Right on time," Joe said as he came into view, carrying the delicious smelling casserole to the table with pot holders on each hand, meaning it would need to rest a bit before they dug in, but there was a large bowl of salad to start, sliced up bread, a beer in his father's hand and one each at Joe and Barry's place settings too.

They made such a surreal domestic pair—Barry's _dads_. He sort of loved it more than he could say, and felt a sudden kinship for Michael having only just discovered this. It wasn't something Barry ever wanted to lose.

Most nights lately, it was the three of them _and_ Wally, since Barry and Wally lived at home. Henry had a new apartment he returned to, but often Iris would join them, sometimes Tina too. Wally was cramming for finals tonight though with his study group at the library.

"This looks great," Barry said, taking the open seat beside Joe. "I'm starved. Relying too much on those protein bars Cisco makes instead of real food is _torture_."

"Why do you think I made a full pan for only the three of us?" Henry said. "Not like we expect leftovers."

"Though Wally would appreciate a slice if you can manage," Joe said, cutting into the lasagna to let it breathe. "I'm guessing a slice each for us normal humans, the rest is all yours, Barr. You need more calories after that, this guy," he pointed at Henry with the knife, "cheated and brought dessert even though he cooked. I'm trying to get _in_ shape, not add a few _extra_ shapes," he patted his middle.

Henry laughed boisterously. "Give it another fifteen years, then talk to me."

"Yeah, looking like that," Joe scoffed, "you be quiet, old man. Now, while you're dishing up half that salad before asking…" he looked to Barry accusingly.

"I just…" Barry halted with the tongs hovering over his plate about to release his, okay, more like _third_ serving, feeling both sets of paternal eyes on him. How did they each make him feel twelve with a look? Lifting that last helping back to the bowl, he set the tongs down again. "I am a heathen with no manners, sorry."

"Check this out, smart guy." Now that Joe had finished his slicing and sat down, he smacked a newspaper between them with several apartment listings circled.

"I was going to do this tonight," Barry gaped as he snatched it up.

"Figured we'd save you the trouble," Henry said.

Barry perused the listings in seconds. "And choose apartments that are all equidistant between this house and your new apartment?" he glanced at his father.

"While also not being too close to either of us, so you have your privacy, though admittedly we hoped you wouldn't notice that right away." Henry hid his guilty smile behind a swig of beer.

"You both realize how ridiculous all this location concession is when I'm The Flash and could be at either of your places in seconds, right?"

"Indulge us," Joe said, one arm propped on the back of his chair, the other holding his own beer.

Barry read through the listings a second time. "Wow, is this one really that rent for _that_ square feet? I'll move out right now."

"Don't get too excited," Joe chuckled, though Barry could see the sorrow in his eyes to once again have to watch Barry move _out_.

"It's time, Joe. And Wally will be around a while yet while he finishes classes, and who knows how long after that. I'm glad you're helping me look. Besides, I thought you and Cecile…" Barry waggled a hinting eyebrow as he set the newspaper aside.

"Don't you go there," Joe grimaced.

"I just don't want to disrupt any alone time you might need in the near future."

"Cecile?" Henry questioned.

"Don't you start in too."

"Sounds like someone worth adding to our family dinner nights, is all," Henry followed Barry's lead as he knew his father would, "though I'm not sure how _we_ ended up the ones with dates and the kids are all single."

Barry choked on his first sip of beer, since the only person who came to mind when imagining dating right now was the _fake_ partner that would be nothing but disaster. "The luxury of youth means there's no rush," he said through a few lingering coughs.

"Funny coming from you," Joe snorted. "How'd you do it, Henry, huh? Ease into everything with McGee so easy?"

"You think it was easy? It took hard work and several awkward, fumbling conversations before she finally took pity on me and asked me out. After that it got easy," he said with a warmer smile, which made Barry so happy for him, honestly. "You and Cecile been out much?"

"A few times," Joe shrugged. "Guess I keep waiting to screw things up. Or have the next meta human blow up the precinct."

"Don't jinx it," Barry said.

"Speaking of Tina though," Henry turned the conversation back on Barry, "what's this she said you'd talk to me about with some heist at her labs?"

"Oh…yeah, it's just uhh…a case Joe and I are working on. Tina's fine. No one was hurt." Barry assumed Henry would take the hint, leave things there for them to talk more in private later, and for a moment that's what seemed to be happening, before Henry continued.

"I was surprised she'd be willing to work with someone like _Captain Cold_ , but if she trusts his son Michael so much, and you trust both of them, slugger, well, that's good enough for me."

 _Crap._

Joe processed those words very carefully, arm frozen about to dish up the first slice from the pan as his eyes landed on Barry in true pre-rant fashion.

"Come again now?"

* * *

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Barry eyed the slice of Mexican lasagna Joe had been about to serve with longing. He just wanted to eat, but disaster followed him even to the dinner table.

" _Cold_? As in _Snart_? And that boy Michael is Snart's _son_?"

It was fairly impressive actually how Joe's volume increased the perfect increment with each new accusation.

"Joe—"

"At what point were you gonna tell me we have two obvious suspects in front of our faces?"

"It wasn't Snart _or_ Michael," Barry jerked forward in his chair. "Michael checked out, and Snart wouldn't do that to his son."

A bitter huff left Joe as he sat back. "You ever stop to think they might have planned this together?"

"They're helping me _solve_ the case."

"Or maybe you're just putting blind faith in a man again who you should have put back in prison."

Barry was so sick of this fight. He knew legally he was in the wrong, but so was being a vigilante. "McGee is in on this too. You want to berate her next?"

"She _trusts_ Snart?"

"She trusts _Michael_. And me. It's a shame you never do."

Silence settled over the table, Henry staying out of it, never one to out-parent Joe if he and Barry were at each other's throats, even if he maintained a small smile like all he had to do was wait for them to finish.

Barry didn't get heated like this with Henry, but Joe was different. Henry had gotten good at putting on a strong face and keeping his emotions in check, while Joe in some ways was more like Barry, always with his emotions close to the surface.

"Sorry, slugger," Henry said when the quiet stretched on too long, "shouldn't have assumed you told him, but I thought you were done keeping secrets from us."

"I am," Barry turned pleading, honest eyes on his father, then turned that same earnestness on Joe. "I was just trying to protect a friend."

"Michael," Joe huffed again, "or Snart? You realize even if this kid is innocent, he's still harboring a felon."

"Technically, so am I," Barry countered.

"At least with you, he's got blackmail material."

"And with Michael, he's his _father_. Snart didn't even escape Iron Heights on his own—"

"You've made that case," Joe spoke over him. "He could have turned himself back in."

"The reason he was even in there—"

"Was for murder!"

"For someone who _deserved_ _it_!" Barry nearly shouted to keep pace. The judgment in Joe's eyes hurt, it always did, ever since the days Barry championed his father's innocence and Joe refused to believe him. "I know we don't get to make that decision, but my opinion on Snart hasn't changed. You met Michael. He's a good man. So is Snart. If you saw them together, you'd understand, you'd want to give Snart another chance too."

Joe let his volume drop to normal decibels to match Barry, but his brow remained pinched. "You really believe that?"

"I do."

"Then you won't have a problem inviting them over for dinner."

"Wait, what?" The combative adrenaline drained from Barry's body. That was not how he thought this would go.

"If Snart's so worthy of a second chance," Joe nodded to stress his point, "you should feel comfortable having him under this roof. Or is that not true?"

Technically, Barry _had_ had Snart under this room—by the fireplace, when Snart threatened to blow up the house.

"It is," Barry said anyway. "I do. I _am_ comfortable. It's just...there's one small problem, and this is not me backtracking, I _trust_ Snart. There's just something you should probably know." Collapsing back into his seat, Barry sighed. Keeping this between him and Cisco was never going to pan out anyway. "Michael maybe thinks me and Snart used to…date."

Henry's smile dropped, unsure what to think of that, while Joe looked in desperate need of another beer.

"Which we _didn't_. It was the first thing that came to mind when Michael asked how we knew each other, so to keep him from figuring out I'm The Flash, we went with it."

Joe's eyes had never gotten so wide and accusatory in such short order. "Do the lies just take on a life of their own with you?"

" _Snart_ started it, I just…" Another sigh; Barry did not want to tumble back into confrontational. "Look, I trust him. I trust Michael. I _will_ invite them over to prove to you that I was right about Snart, even if he keeps trying to pretend otherwise. He's a good man, Joe. Now he's trying to be a good dad. This is important to Michael too, solving the case and helping Snart onto a better path. I know what it feels like to believe in someone when no one else does."

"That is low, Barr," Joe said, even though his expression proved he'd never fight the guilt he felt for taking so long to believe in Henry, especially now that they were friends. "But all right. Invite them. I mean it. Whole family affair. Tina too," he pointed at Henry to unsure they were all in on this insanity together.

"And Cecile?" Henry said.

"I ain't inviting no DA to family dinner with an escaped felon," Joe said. "Next time, maybe, without Snart and son."

 _Snart and son._ For family dinner at the West house.

Barry wasn't sure he understood how things had happened this way, he still mostly just wanted to _eat_ and was thankful when Joe reached for the spatula, but assuming Snart even agreed to this invitation, it was going to be an interesting evening sometime in the near future.

* * *

The next morning, Barry beat everyone but Cisco to the Labs—rarely did anyone beat Cisco. Caitlin wouldn't be in until much later, but Snart and Michael were scheduled to meet them.

This time Cisco was the one who'd provided treats, an assortment of donuts, one full box of which went mysteriously missing—and was promptly disposed of—before the other pair arrived so Barry could last a little longer until lunch time.

"Are you seriously watching the entrances?" Barry peered at the various screens displaying footage from around STAR Labs.

"I don't want Snart doing that creeping from the shadows thing again," Cisco said, munching on a fritter from his roller chair. "He enjoys sneaking past our defenses way too much."

"Nonsense," Snart's voice made Cisco yelp and lose hold of the fritter that he just barely managed to catch again after it flew into the air. "If there _were_ defenses, then I'd enjoy it."

While it might not have been as grand an entrance as what he'd done at Mercury Labs, appearing from the main hallway with Michael in tow when none of the entrances had shown them arrive still made it impressive.

" _How_?" Cisco pointed his donut at them.

The tilt of Snart's head said so much before he spoke. "Back door by the garages doesn't have a camera. One would think you'd have attended to that hole in your security by now."

Michael snickered, taking it all in good fun, which Barry knew it _was_ , Snart being dramatic for entertainment's sake more than goading, but being inside the Cortex, _inside_ STAR Labs, where the Flash suit was on display only feet away, sucked Michael's attention across the room.

It wasn't negligence. Michael already knew this was The Flash's base, so hiding anything seemed pointless. Plus, Barry kind of enjoyed seeing someone light up with excitement and awe over _him_ once in a while.

"Oh my god, is that really the suit? Oh my _god_." Michael darted over to it.

"The man inside is far less impressive," Snart said, to which Barry shot him a glare.

"I have a hard time believing that," Michael said. "He's _The_ _Flash_ , Dad. I mean…just let me have this one fanboy moment," he held up his hands in apology, "and I'll stop, but…can I touch it?"

Barry had to laugh. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Uh, _I_ might mind," Cisco said. "That is _my_ suit. But yes, you may touch it," he nodded at Michael.

The fanboy excitement only slightly overshadowed Michael's technical scrutiny of the suit's construction, which he appreciated with careful fingers skimming along the edges. His hands were quite like Snart's too.

"I didn't think you liked The Flash," Barry said.

"I don't like him around _Dad_ ," Michael glanced back at them, "coz, well, would you like someone constantly knocking your father around and trying to put him in jail?"

"True," Barry offered an apologetic cringe at Snart since he _had_ tackled him yesterday, though Snart seemed to be taking all this with only mild petulance, "that would be tough."

"But that doesn't mean this isn't _badass_ ," Michael finally traced the lightning bolt emblem.

"It's just a suit," Snart said with impatience, and maybe a little…jealousy?

"Dad, you're cool, okay?" Michael said as he returned to his father's side. "Pun totally intended, but Flash is like…a real superhero, with powers he uses to help people. My crush on The Flash is only slightly preceded by my long-standing crush on Spider-Man. _Don't_ tell him I said that," he turned to Cisco.

Barry tried very hard not to blush, while also avoiding Snart's eyes.

Cisco, however, was completely unaffected. "Wanna see the new suit I've been working on?"

"Seriously?" Michael lit up.

"For real? You won't even let _me_ see it," Barry protested.

"It's need-to-know," Cisco said as if Barry was merely a visitor, which was what they wanted Michael to believe, but still.

"And _I_ ," Michael hurried to Cisco's side, "so need to know."

Then they were off, slipping out of the room to Cisco's workshop. Barry was fairly certain Cisco wasn't in on the Parent Trapping.

Fairly certain.

He shrugged at Snart as he moved closer to him. "I think Cisco likes Michael more than me."

"He's easy to like," Snart said without any guile for once, more like grudging acceptance.

"He is," Barry said. "I haven't even asked you yet. How is all this? Being a dad, I mean? _Seriously_ ," he added, since he tended to expect deflection when it came to Snart.

This time, though, he looked off in the direction Michael had gone and lost some of the roughness to his edges. "Easier in some ways since he's an adult. More difficult for that same reason at other times. He's more forgiving than he should be. He's good with Lisa though. And Mick."

" _Mick_? Really?"

A smile played at Snart's lips. "Mick adores him. And he doesn't adore anyone. He really only tolerates me, and he'd be the first to say so."

Barry laughed.

"It's…good," Snart said, serious and almost timid like he feared the realization of all he had to lose. "A rare good."

"He's going to be fine," Barry assured him, even if Snart would never admit to his fears out loud. "We'll solve the case. Nothing's going to happen to Michael."

Barry saw the way Snart tensed at the blunt reminder, but how his expression stayed smooth proved he appreciated the promise.

Anything more either might have said was stalled by the arrival of Hartley Rathaway coming through the main entrance. Even though Barry had expected him since Cisco mentioned calling him in, he still had the gut reaction to be on guard. His memories of a timeline where Hartley was still his enemy had all but faded now, but there were enough lingering feelings to surprise him every time that this too was a friend.

"Hey, Hart. Thanks for coming."

"Barry. Always a pleasure," Hartley flashed his charming, flirtatious grin.

"What is this?" Snart, on the other hand, glared, reaching for the edge of his jacket as if he meant to draw his gun.

"Great minds, Snart," Barry moved to stand between them in case he needed to mediate. The two had never met in either timeline, as far as Barry was aware, but they clearly knew who each other was. "We figured an extra person couldn't hurt. Hartley is just as capable as Cisco."

" _Just_ ascapable?" Hartley sneered. Generally, he was friendlier and less patronizing than when they first met, but he had his moments. "Not sure I can stomach that insult, _Allen_."

"You should have told me," Snart said as if Barry had betrayed an important trust.

"He's just—"

"I know who he is."

"Touchy," Hartley studied Snart's stiff demeanor. "What did I ever do to you, Cold? I play nice now, you know. Thought you did too."

Snart looked ready to prove how 'nice' was the last thing he was when Cisco and Michael came back in, talking animatedly but hushed about the new suit.

"Who is _that_?" Hartley said in open appreciation.

"No," came Snart's sharp reply.

Glancing between them, Hartley's superior expression fell away once he recognized the family resemblance. "You have got to be kidding me. This Michael Wynters we're helping is your…brother?"

"Try again." Snart's said.

"Urg," Hartley groaned, deterred but also _not_. He looked Michael up and down with zero subtlety. "Well _done_ , by the way. He's what? Twenty-two?"

"Three," Barry said, which he didn't think was worth _that_ malevolent of a stare from Snart.

"Really?" Hartley said with interest.

" _No_."

"Oh please, I think he's old enough to make decisions for himself," Hartley hissed one final refute before Cisco and Michael reached them and realized they had an addition.

"Hi, I'm Michael," Michael immediately extended a hand to him. "Michael Wynters."

"Hartley Rathaway," Hartley accepted it.

"I know. You attacked Rathaway Industries a while back. It was in the papers. How'd you end up on Team Flash?"

Snart's glare snapped to Barry, but Barry spoke with his eyes that Hartley knew better than to spill any secrets—he hoped.

"Think of me as more of a part-time member," Hartley said, "but Flash and the people here saved me when they might have let me get the brunt end of a bad fight. Changed my perspective. Barry helped with the legal side of things, still a little difficult to find a day job, but I've been exploring my options." Hartley, being Hartley, didn't try to hide the _options_ he might be worth exploring later, which Michael didn't seem to mind one bit.

A pointed clearing of the throat brought everyone's attention to Snart. "For now, why don't we explore the matter at hand."

Michael scoffed with a quiet snicker. "Wow, I think Dad's worried about you," he said to Hartley with strengthened curiosity.

"Only the _Pied Piper_ portion," Snart said.

"He doesn't like me getting involved with anything supervillain related."

"Well, I am technically retired," Hartley leaned forward on the tall desk to get closer to Michael across from him. "Also single. And currently with a lot of spare time."

Barry was having a tough time hiding his smile, while Cisco appeared only mildly annoyed, since he was used to Hartley, and Snart looked on with pursed lips like watching a car crash he couldn't stop.

"Sports or video games?" Michael asked.

"The uniforms can be a plus and all, but I prefer to stay in."

"Genre?"

"MOBAs preferably, but I'm… _flexible_."

"Please stop," Cisco groaned, but Michael pushed on.

"XBOX or PlayStation? Though I suppose PCs if you're into MOBAs."

"True. Otherwise, PlayStation, always. Hardly worth asking, but I assume PC over Mac for you?"

"Yep. Mac if I was a designer or sound engineer though."

Now, Hartley looked intrigued rather than just enjoying the back and forth. "Wars or Trek?"

"Both obviously, but if I had to choose, I'm a Trekkie deep down. And _we_ ," he pointed at Barry then included Cisco as well, "are due for a marathon. Maybe you could join us," he smiled back at Hartley.

"Would that wound your delicate sensibilities, Ciscito?" Hartley said before focusing back on Michael. "He gets pretty up in arms about _Wrath of Khan_."

"That's because this _pleb_ ," Cisco broke in, "says _Wrath of Khan_ is overrated."

 _Oh no._ Barry realized where this was headed far too late.

"It _is_ ," Michael said plainly.

Utter incredulity washed over Cisco's face. "We can no longer be friends."

Michael laughed, fully confident Cisco was not being serious, but as the looming disaster drew nearer, Barry knew he wasn't fast enough to avoid it. " _Barry_ agrees with me. Tell him," Michael dragged him helplessly into the fray.

"He does _not_ ," Cisco gaped in horror, but when he looked to Barry for confirmation, lying was no longer an option. Barry's guilty shrug was his only answer, causing Cisco to gasp. " _Dude_."

"I don't _hate_ it," Barry said. "It's just not my favorite. I always preferred the Bones/Kirk dynamic, so I think _Search for Spock_ gets a bad rap."

"Do I even _know_ you? Not that I should be surprised," Cisco's accusing stare turned to Snart as if _he_ was to blame for this. "Got a soft spot for smartasses named _Leonard_ , do you?"

 _Traitor_ , Barry thought in response, though he supposed he deserved that for lying for so long. Still, he could have done without the heated blush that filled his cheeks when everyone, Snart included, turned to look at him.

"On _rare_ occasions," he said.

"My, my, Scarlet," Snart forgot his annoyance with Hartley to fall in step with old habits, "always nice to see you living up to your namesake."

"I am _not_ blushing," Barry pouted, though he so was.

"You call him 'Scarlet' because he blushes?" Michael reminded everyone that he did not, in fact, know Barry was The Scarlet Speedster. "That is super adorable."

Urg _. How_ did they keep digging this whole deeper? Even Hartley was giving side-eye glances between Barry and Snart now.

"It's mostly just annoying, trust me," Barry said. "Cisco, can you help me pull up the cold gun schematics, please, so we can get started?"

Following Barry across the room to the other computer terminal, Cisco was at least good enough not to bring up that 1) they could have used the main computer, and 2) two people were not needed to do this, but he still leaned in close to whisper, "Are you sure you two never dated, coz _dude_ …"

"Shut up."

"Just saying," Cisco said as he fell into the second roller chair and his fingers flew across the keyboard, "I thought you two cranked up the flirting _before_. There something you need to tell me?"

"No," Barry turned around to lean back on the desk, but Cisco just stared at him. " _No_. You know I like Snart," he dropped his voice to barely audible.

"Yeah, but do you _like_ like him?" Cisco whispered back.

"For real right now? You're supposed to be against this fake relationship."

" _You're_ supposed to be honest with your best friend, but suddenly, completely out of the blue, you like dudes _and_ Bones? Which was not meant to be a pun, please ignore that."

Anymore eye-rolls today and Barry would give himself a headache. At least Snart looked like he was gaining one too having to witness Michael and Hartley flirting. "Like I said, I didn't try to hide that I'm bi, I just don't blurt it out in casual conversation. And you were so into the whole Kirk/Spock thing I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Liking Bones doesn't mean I like Snart or Michael more than you, though you could be less blatant about replacing _me_ with Kid Cold. The new suit, really?" he bemoaned. He'd been looking forward to that for weeks, ever since Cisco told him about it.

"You'll see it when it's ready. It's _for_ you. It's no fun if there's no unveiling."

Barry supposed it was difficult to argue with that.

"But anyway, of course I'm against you hooking up with Snart. That could only end badly. You know, unless it didn't," he said far too thoughtfully for Barry's blood pressure right now, but then he continued, "Michael did give me Lisa's number, by the way, but now I'm scared to use it. What should I say if I called, do you think?"

Barry rolled his eyes despite himself because he could _not_ deal right now, and pushed from the desk to return to the others even if his cheeks were a little warm.

* * *

Entertainment factor aside in getting Barry flustered, Len wished he'd known about Piper's addition to the team so he could have voiced his dissent and prevented it. Though, as their discussion began and they started actually working, he couldn't argue with the man's contributions.

Len was only wary because of the criminal element, however much that might be behind Hartley now. It had nothing to do with being protective of his son getting involved with someone. His disapproval of certain partners never persuaded Lisa, and while Michael wasn't _her_ , he could take care of himself.

Len just couldn't be held responsible for how he might react if someone broke his boy's heart.

The four geniuses in the room, Michael foremost among them, had things covered without much input from him. Lacking formal education or otherwise, Len followed the discussion fine, he just didn't have much to add, and he let his mind drift before long on how to approach breaking into Mercury Labs.

Hartley agreed with their assessment that the thief wanted to create a new cold gun, and since the team knew exactly what remained to finish building one, the next best solution was to set a trap.

There had been no pings from the meta human database for anyone from Earth-2 still in Central who fit the bill, so they planned to expand the pool and try again. Barry's evidence didn't point to anything obviously _cut_ , meaning a return to the scene was also paramount, which Len could get a better look at while breaking in. He already had an idea for a general report Michael could give to McGee to increase things beforehand, then he'd get to fine-tune other lapses in security as he explored the establishment the best way he knew how.

Throughout their discussion, however, Len kept being drawn back to the way Michael was drawn to Hartley, and Hartley clearly appreciated the younger man's mind and charm.

"Why are you being so nice to him?" Cisco said eventually.

"I can't be nice?" Hartley asked.

"You were the _biggest_ dick to me when we first met."

" _You_ showed up to your first day of work in a statement nerd T-shirt."

"And a blazer," Cisco defended. "You just felt threatened by me taking your place as Wells's golden boy."

Rather than push back, this time Hartley conceded. "You're right. I did. And we were both wrong to trust him. But you have to admit, Michael is a far snappier dresser than you, which is more my type."

Cisco flipped his wavy locks over his shoulder. "You still love the hair."

"Well I'm not _blind_."

Barry and Michael both laughed, which Len could admit, made it difficult to be as aggravated as he wanted to be, but when Barry glanced at him within the comradery throughout the room, there was a strange warmth that passed between them that Len was not sure what to do with—being included and _welcome_.

"Dad?" Michael said, as if he'd already called for Len more than once. "When do you think you can do the test run on security?"

"Tomorrow," Len shifted in place to shrug off the tingle Barry had stirred in him.

" _Tomorrow_?" Barry repeated.

"The longer we wait, the more chance this person has to try again before we're ready. You keep at the science end of things," Len looked to each of them, "I'll make sure we pull off the trap. It's merely a matter of filling in the gaps while leaving a tempting trail the thief won't be able to ignore."

No disagreements arose, but Barry inched closer to Len. "Can I, um…talk to you alone for a minute?"

"If you must," Len sighed, wondering what Barry could possibly want this time. At this rate, Michael would give up his Parent Trapping simply because they kept _trapping_ themselves. "Yes?" he said once they had moved to a quiet corner of the Cortex.

"I want to help."

"You are helping."

"With the _heist_ ," Barry insisted.

He really was far too adorable sometimes. "It's not a heist if we're not taking anything."

"Whatever. I trust you to do it on your own, I'm not trying to be a babysitter, but I want to see what you find. It could help with the normal part of closing the case so we don't raise too many questions."

As per usual, Barry wasn't off base with that request, but Len couldn't keep giving in without stipulations. "I suppose I could allow that, but my rules again, and this time I expect you to follow them."

"Like what?" Barry asked uncertainly.

"No powers. I make the plan, we meet beforehand to discuss it in full, and you follow my lead without question." Len was reminded of Saints and Sinners that night Barry tried to make a deal for his help moving the metas, willing to offer anything—except what Len originally wrote on that napkin. Barry needed to learn to stop being so giving and trusting, though Len honestly hoped he never did.

"Okay," Barry said. "All those things. I can do that. Just tell me when and where to meet you."

 _Trapping themselves_ indeed, only there was no chance anything would come of it, there couldn't be. Still, having _The Flash_ under Len's thumb might mean things were looking up.

"So," he heard from across the room from Hartley, "do you have any lunch plans?"

Or not.

"Oh, and Snart?" Barry stopped him before he could move away. "There's one other thing I umm…need to ask you." The way his brow scrunched and he bit his lower lip would have been unfairly alluring if it didn't also put Len on alert for trouble. "Please don't be mad."

* * *

Dinner. _Family_ dinner. With _Detective West_ of all people.

Len had flat out said no, never, _nonsense_ , only for their argument to catch the attention of the room. As soon as Michael asked what they were talking about, Len knew he couldn't win. It didn't matter if everyone other than Michael who'd be there knew about the dating charade, or to not talk about Flash business. It would still be a disaster, because family dinner with the Wests wouldn't be anything like family dinner with the Rogues.

Even after they'd all parted for the day from STAR Labs, Len hadn't been able to shake the image of what it would be like. That beautiful home and all the happy, smiling faces in it, nothing like what he'd grown up with, or what Michael had known either.

It was silly to be…envious. The Wests were hardly a nuclear family. Barry was adopted, his real father had been in prison for years, West hadn't known about his blood son until recently, much like Len himself. It was its own kind of mess. But it was a loving, law-abiding, upper-middle-class mess.

He hated being shown something he could never have for himself. It made him want to _take_ , but a happy family wasn't something he could steal. He still wanted to backtrack, say—actually, raincheck until _never_ —but Michael had looked so excited by the idea, he hadn't been able to say no.

There was no shared dinner happening tonight, Michael had plans, Lisa was off doing her own thing, but Michael still stopped by later that night to help Mick with a project. Len didn't always stay with Mick in the same safe house, but lately they'd tended to end up together, likely because that way there was less chance of missing a visit from Michael, and Mick did get more destructive if he was alone for too long.

The point was it was still a safe house. Cluttered and dark, no warmth or character beyond a gearhead calendar on the wall. Michael looked happy enough being there, in the open area they'd sectioned off as a garage, but Len wondered if that was enough.

He and Mick were rebuilding the engine on a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429—Mick's dream car. He'd talked about fixing one up for years, but it was Michael who'd pushed him to finally start. The parts were hot, of course, but Michael didn't care, he just helped and chatted with Mick while they worked, giving the right oos and ahs at appropriate times when a new part came in or they got something working.

Len had argued it should be painted blue when they were finished. Mick vied for orange or red. Michael finally said black with flames on the side, and Mick was sold. Len could hardly argue after that.

Watching them from a table covered in schematics and notes for tomorrow, what stung the most was that Len honestly wasn't sure if this _was_ happiness. He'd gone too long without anything, always fighting for more. When did he get to relax and enjoy and be done wanting? How would he know the difference?

Other people, _certain_ people, made it look so easy.

"What's up?" Michael asked, walking into Len's line of sight as if appearing from nothing since Len had been distracted by his thoughts. The slightly smudged and dirty young man, wearing jeans and a T-shirt for once, carried three empty beer bottles, two of which Len knew were Mick's, waiting to be replaced with fresh ones.

"Planning for tomorrow," Len gestured at the table.

"Anything I can help with?" The bottles clanked together when Michael set them down to glance over the controlled chaos of how Len worked.

"Not until I have the initial guidelines for you to hand McGee."

"Okay then. Anything I can help with concerning what you were _really_ thinking about?"

 _Punk_. Michael had never been taught to keep things to himself, but always wanted to talk and fix things.

"Maybe…Barry?" he eased closer to Len.

"No," Len deadpanned. "I'm surprised you can even still plot over that after being distracted by young Rathaway today."

Michael snickered as he leaned on the edge of the table. "We just had lunch, Dad. He's cute. Wicked smart. I might see him again. You know, getting out, _dating_ , letting people get to _know you_ , can all be good things."

Len stared down at the table, unsure if he could explain what was truly troubling him.

"Wait, _it is_ Barry that's bothering you?"

" _No_ ," Len snapped again, but then had to admit, "Somewhat. It's this _West_ meal. You realize the detective only wants to prove to himself and to Barry that I'm no good."

"Maybe," Michael said, "but that's why I'll be there to help show off to everyone how amazing you are. Ooo, we should bring dessert!" he brightened as though his current grungy surroundings could never stifle him. "You can make those brownies we had at Lisa's birthday."

The contentment that fluttered in Len's chest might be happiness. It was just so _domestic_ , he was bound to screw it up.

"Dad?" Michael said with concern. "What's wrong? Really?"

The words caught in Len's throat, but he knew Michael wouldn't leave this alone. After months of back and forth in moments like this, he'd learned that occasionally he had to give in. He might have even started to enjoy it. He just wished he had something less melancholy to say than, "I'm sorry this isn't a home."

" _What?_ " Michael reared back. "What do you mean?"

"This is a hideaway for criminals," Len spread his arm at the old warehouse. "This isn't a home. Not a real one."

The smile Michael graced him with was full of compassion Len would never get used to. "Home isn't a place, Dad."

"It should be. Everyone deserves a safe place to return to."

"I thought that _was_ a safe house?" Michael grinned.

This boy was too sweet, too good, just like Barry Allen. But unlike Barry, Michael was stuck with Len now, and Len wanted to offer him something better. "What if I got a real apartment after all this, like Lisa?"

"Is that something you want?" Michael asked. "Don't do it just for me. I don't need…I don't even know what to say, rent control? This is fine too, Dad. Otherwise, we'd need a garage." He looked back toward the car and more than enough parts and tools to put it together.

"Might be nice to consolidate a few things, is all," Len tried to cover how part of _him_ might want a home too, even if it was something he barely remembered having. "I wouldn't give up all the safe houses. They're practical. And Mick prefers them."

"I know," Michael chuckled.

"Hey!" Mick called, as if sensing they'd been talking about him and peeking his head out from beneath the car. "Ya gonna take all night gettin' those beers, Mikey? We got a crankshaft to place."

"Sorry, Uncle Mick! I'm coming!" Michael called back, never discouraged, never soured by Mick's surly disposition. Then he turned to Len with understanding and…love. "Whatever you want, Dad, as long as _you're_ happy. You get that's all I want, right?"

Len nodded almost mechanically, feeling his throat tighten like he might choke up, because he still wasn't used to anyone feeling that way about him and saying it so freely, but Michael always made him feel _so much_.

Smiling broadly at him, Michael snatched up the beer bottles from the table, but before he dashed away to the fridge, he pressed a quick kiss to Len's temple, a rare display, but easy as he pleased.

Heat pricked at Len's eyes in the aftermath, making him glad Michael was behind him now and couldn't see him.

Len couldn't go back in time and be there to give Michael a good life. Michael had gotten one just fine from his mother, but he'd missed out on having a dad, and Len had missed out on having any kind of good family interactions outside a few sweet moments with his sister, so he was going to make up for that. For both of them.

Even if it meant having dinner with a detective who once threw his ass in jail.

But first he had to complete a fake heist with his _fake_ ex without falling any further down the rabbit hole that he was afraid he would never be able to climb out of.

TBC...

* * *

Happy Holidays to everyone, though I do believe I'll get new chapters up next week as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**I really can never express enough how your comments inspire me and make this an even more enjoyable tale to share with you. I am especially excited for where things go from here, as more and more will start to be revealed about what is really going on.**

 **Happy New Year, everyone!**

* * *

 _Michael_ was supposed to be the one doing all the plotting, pushing them into awkward situations or making up excuses to get them alone. But somewhere along the way, that had fallen aside, and everyone else started playing their part—even _Joe_ , however unintentionally by suggesting dinner—and Barry himself.

After all, he had no one else to blame for being in Jitters picking up coffee for him and _Captain Cold_ for the second time in the same week. He'd justified the act as wanting to play nice for their team-up tonight, keep him and Snart on good terms, so it was easier to nudge the thief in a tamer and more law-abiding direction, and that was _true_.

Barry also got a ridiculous kick out of ordering a _Flash_ and _iced Flash_ for them respectively because… _puns_. Snart was a terrible influence.

It was mid-afternoon not the morning coffee rush, so the place wasn't packed. Barry had gotten some work done in the morning at Flash speed to make sure it didn't look like he'd slacked all day at the precinct, and what he was about to do was technically case work, plus Joe would cover for him. Some afternoon caffeine seemed like the perfect way to _break the ice_ for his upcoming B&E.

Barry snickered to himself as he waited for his order. He was not excited—even if he was a little. Last time had been soured by the presence of _Lewis_ , but working with Snart was fun. This time, Barry knew there was no looming betrayal or tricks planned because Michael was involved, so he wanted to enjoy himself and follow Snart's instructions to the letter. He didn't have to be a buzzkill. It's not like he was _Lawful_ Good. More like Neutral with a dash of Chaotic.

Checking his phone once more to confirm the address Snart had texted him—Michael had given him his number, no surprise there—Barry paced closer to the pickup counter and noticed a familiar pair of heads at a table around the corner.

"Hey, guys," he greeted Linda and Wally as he approached them. "Iris in the ladies' room?"

Linda turned with a startled, _strained_ stretch to her smile, while Wally jerked his head at Barry with a true deer-in-headlights expression.

"No," he said.

"No?" Barry repeated.

"Nope," Linda said with a pop of the 'p'.

"Oh," Barry blinked at them, sitting across from each other with their coffees, leaning in close over the table, seeming so very put-upon and _interrupted_. " _Oh_. I'll just…I need to umm…" Barry flailed to gesture behind him and remember what excuse made sense right now, "…did I hear them call my name?" and hurried back around to the pickup counter with his cheeks on fire.

 _What_ a goon. He really could win awards for being oblivious. But how was he supposed to know Wally and Linda had hit it off? They'd only just met!

Sadly, the baristas had _not_ called his name, so Barry had to stand there waiting, not quite hidden enough from his friends' table to avoid being supremely awkward, which was only made worse when Linda wandered over as if to take pity on him, when really, they were the ones who deserved an apology.

"Breathe, Barry," she said, "Wally and I are just having coffee. He's cute and, well, look at that smile."

A quick glance at Wally's dopey expression watching after Linda said it all—he was smitten.

"Is this okay?" she turned back to Barry. "Is it weird? It's weird."

" _No_. It's fine," Barry said. Interrupting someone's date was weird, but them being _on_ a date didn't have to be. "We were barely even a couple."

"He's just sweet and…he asked," Linda said. "Iris gave him my number, so she's okay with it. I would not date a friend's brother without an okay. Which I realize sounds super mean when he's also _your_ brother," she added with a cringe.

"It's fine," Barry said again. "Really. Wally _is_ sweet. He's great."

"Great. Good," Linda said with a relieved and possibly smitten smile herself. "Thank you. Though admittedly I did have an ulterior motive for wanting to chat a minute. You're working that Mercury Labs case, right?"

"What? Why?" Barry was thrown by the sudden subject change. "Aren't you a sports writer?"

"I am, but that's not where I want to stay. I'm looking to advance into TV journalism eventually, and not as a sportscaster. I need to prove I can do real news stories too."

Oh no, this was like Iris all over again. "I cannot talk about an ongoing case with the press," Barry hissed.

"You can leak a few juicy details," Linda said quietly back, "nothing that would hurt the case. There are already whispers about it being a meta human. The masses want to know who they should be afraid of this week."

That was…fair, but it still put Barry in a difficult position. Would Linda and Iris be competing for stories now? Would Iris be upset if Barry gave information to her friend instead of _her_?

"And before you ask, Iris isn't on this story, so you're off the hook if you think you'd upset her."

Crap. Barry had to remind himself why these two were reporters; they were far shrewder than he was. "We don't know, okay? We caught Black Siren yesterday."

"Heard about that too, but no chatter on her being a suspect for Mercury Labs."

"That's because she isn't."

" _But_ …?" Linda prompted.

Urg. This was the worst kind of déjà vu. But if Linda was anything like Iris, which he knew she was when it came to being a shark for her stories, giving a controlled something would be better than giving nothing and having Linda show up somewhere she shouldn't.

Tilting his head closer to Linda, he said very softly, "Siren gave us some weird clue about it being a meta who can cut through anything, but she wouldn't say much else. Snart and I are going to revamp Mercury Labs security."

Linda's eyes widened. "So you _are_ working with Captain Cold."

"You _cannot_ print that. He's worried about his enemies finding out he's…" Shit, Barry had to stop before he said too much.

"Gone soft?" Linda finished.

"He's trying to protect someone."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that, he'd _kill_ me."

A sigh puffed between her lips, dark eyes glittering with cunning. "What if I print that Mercury Labs is using an outside consultant to up their security after the heist? I'll get a quote from McGee even. Printing that could scare the thief off if you're worried they're going to try again. And if it doesn't scare them, at least it will get them out of hiding. Isn't that what you want?"

"That…actually isn't a bad idea," Barry said, since they hadn't discussed how to set the bait for their impending trap. "We're working on security tonight. I'm going to meet Snart now to go over the plans."

"I can have the story on the streets _tomorrow_ ," Linda smiled in triumph. "Perfect timing to lure this person for round two."

It was no wonder Linda and Iris made such good friends. They were both equally intelligent and conniving when the situation called for it, but Barry couldn't deny that the plan made sense. "Do it. But no mention of Snart, the Flash, or Michael Wynters."

"Why not Wynters? Wasn't he the lead researcher on the project?"

"He is, just…avoid his name. Stick to Mercury Labs, McGee, any quotes about the research itself, but not him, okay? He's a friend of mine and I don't want to risk him being targeted." That was believable, right, without pointing any fingers between Michael and Snart?

"Barry," Linda said with care in her gaze that almost made Barry feel guilty, "I'd never do anything that might get somewhere hurt. That's the last thing I want. Now, enough work talk. I have a date to get back to. See you later?"

"Yeah. And have fun. You two would actually be pretty good together," Barry lifted his gaze to Wally again, who'd averted his stare to his coffee but had traces of a rosy glow in his cheeks.

"Thanks," Linda squeezed his arm before heading back to their table.

"Barry!" called the barista.

Right on time. Barry just hoped Snart understood his thinking with printing a story in Picture News.

XXXXX

That…actually wasn't a bad idea.

Len had initially been upset—Barry didn't _think_ most of the time when it came to these matters—but something like _that_ in the papers could bait their thief just like they wanted. If it scared them off entirely, even better.

Plus, it was adorable that Barry had once again brought coffee for their meet-up. Even dressed in his black jeans, shirt, and faux leather jacket with the hood, he brightened up the safe house with his mere presence, such a different sort of soul than its usual occupants.

They were not in the building Len and Mick had been staying at recently. Len had relocated for today to a lesser used safe house or he never would have given the location to his nemesis.

"Trying to butter me up?" he said as he sipped from his _iced_ Flash.

Barry's eyes kept darting around the warehouse as if expecting to discover something life-changing in its décor. "Oh, I don't know, maybe a little sugar and caffeine will make you less of an asshole."

Len's lips twitched with a smile.

"Don't count on it," Mick's gruff voice preceded his entrance, stalking swift and booming across the room to join them with a curt once over of Barry's slender form. "Who are you then?"

"Uhh…" Barry's eyes widened with a glint of _betrayal_ at Len.

Len may have neglected to mention that he'd deemed this a three-man operation, but he had to keep the kid on his toes some of the time. "Mick, this is _Sam_. He'll be joining us tonight."

"Hn," Mick grunted, reaching for the _other_ coffee Barry had brought, which was definitely not intended for him. "A little _young_ , doncha think?"

While Barry stood gaping at Mick drinking _his_ coffee, he finally ended up shaking his head and looking at Len apologetically. "Wait, no. I appreciate it, really, but…I'm _Barry_ ," he said and extended his hand.

Kid didn't mind going all-in this time.

"Then why'd he say Sam?" Mick kept his hands to himself.

"Because I'm also _The_ _Flash_."

 _All_ -in, apparently.

"Huh," Mick cast a more analyzing stare down Barry's body, then back to his face. "Guess ya are.

"You're okay with that?" Barry dropped his arm in surprise.

"Yer not arrestin' me," Mick said, but then he stopped, looked like something had just clicked in his head, and said, "Wait… _He's_ Barry? You were datin' _The Flash_?"

" _No_ ," Len snapped. "That's just what we told Michael so he wouldn't ask questions. He doesn't know Barry and The Flash are the same person, and I expect everyone to keep it that way."

"Yeah, yeah," Mick said, sipping once more from his acquired coffee, causing Barry to glance around like he wished he had something to occupy his hands. "Why me on this one instead 'a Lisa then? Bet she'd play nice with Sparky."

"Lisa has plans tonight. Seemed adamant about not changing them."

"You don't…know what those plans are?" Barry asked leadingly.

"You do?" The guilty expression on the kid's face said it all. "Ramon."

"Michael gave him her number," Barry said in their defense. "There's a lot of number juggling going on lately…"

"Of course he did." It was all crumbling down around Len, he could feel it, and glancing at Mick didn't help any. "What are _you_ looking so contemplative for?"

"Nothin'," Mick said, "at this rate, just wonderin' if the doc is still single."

" _Caitlin_?" Barry balked.

"Gentlemen," Len spoke over any continued conversation that might have arisen, "the clock is ticking, and we have a lot to discuss before show time."

Between the various maps, notes, and everything else McGee had provided, Len had never been so prepared for a _not_ -heist in so short a time in his entire life, but that didn't mean he was going to play this sloppy. The point of the venture wasn't only to gauge how poor Mercury Labs security was or how the original thief might have gotten in, but to document where there could be improvements, especially where it pertained to their impending trap.

The security guards had no idea about the planned break-in, only McGee and Michael did, so it would be like any other night, meaning they could trip an alarm or get the cops called if something went wrong. Len wanted to avoid that. Even if McGee had their backs, that hardly meant a free pass if the boys in blue showed up.

"We're gettin' paid for this, right?" Mick said after Len had detailed their plan.

"Yes."

"Does that mean _I_ get a cut?" Barry asked slyly.

"Depends if you're useful or not."

The kid ducked his head like he'd been expecting that answer, but looked tense and anxious again when he asked, "I feel like this goes without saying, but…no cold or heat gun, right?"

Len didn't need to be convinced of that, but Mick was hard to wrangle sometimes. As it stood, he didn't look pleased by the request, but he didn't dissent either.

"I can do that for Mikey. He works at this place?"

"And he _loves_ his job," Barry said.

"Fine. We do this old school then, nothin' on us but simple tools like we were nineteen again. That's about where you fall, right, Red?" he grinned at Barry challengingly.

Barry's answering sneer was more encouraging than most outside team-ups Len had attempted with Mick. It never would have been this easy without Michael around.

Once they had the basic plan down, there was time to kill before they needed to head out. Mick went off to gear up and do his own thing, but Barry glanced around like a middle school kid at his first dance.

"I should, uhh…grab something to eat before—"

"Got ya covered, Scarlet. Michael tends to overcook. Brought along various leftovers I put in the fridge." Len pointed across the way, which thankfully for Barry's sake, was the opposite direction from Mick. "Help yourself."

"Oh," Barry stopped his backward momentum with a pleased smile. "Thanks, Snart."

Len followed him, partially because he too was ready for a bite, but also because he knew Barry was keeping a keen eye on his surroundings and the path to the kitchen would lead him right past—

"Oh my god," Barry came to a skidding halt when he saw the glass case hidden beside the wall. "Is that it? What Michael talked about? Is that an issue _#1_?"

Despite the otherwise dankness of the building, a place of honor had been set aside for Len's pristine copy of the first issue of _The Grey Ghost_ comic series.

"No wonder you keep it under glass." Barry approached the case with the proper gait and reverence. "It's one of the first comic books _ever_ , compiled from the Pulp run in the 30s. This is worth…I can't even imagine what this is worth. You must have paid—" he cut off as soon as he glanced back at Len. "You stole it, didn't you?"

"Before you assume I stole it from some poor devoted geek-boy who'd had it passed down for generations from his grandfather, it was at an estate auction."

"You actually bought it?"

"No, I stole it, but technically it wasn't from a _person_ anymore."

Barry laughed, awkward middle school dance nerves assuaged. "My dad used to play recordings of the radio show when I didn't want a normal bedtime story."

"Aren't gruesome murder mysteries a tad much for a young boy?"

"Yeah, Mom was not a fan when she found out. But I loved it, even when I had nightmares." With another chuckle and longing look at the enshrined comic, Barry continued into the kitchen. He proceeded to extract every container of leftovers from the fridge, before looking them over guiltily as if asking permission.

Len snatched one he wanted for himself, then spread his hand over the others to indicate Barry could knock himself out. Mick had his own stash of food.

"I always tried to figure out the mysteries before The Grey Ghost did," Barry said, heating up containers in the microwave one at a time. "I loved all the fantastical elements, his powers that were mostly really subtle, so he had to rely on being a good detective more than anything. My favorite story though was this one that didn't have anything supernatural to it. It was very old-school noir. Pretty dame needs help solving her father's murder, thinking she'll be targeted next."

Len didn't remember that one.

"And it's this whole web of conspiracies and backstabbing until Ghost finally realizes that because he has a bit of a thing for her, he was blinded to seeing that _she_ was the one behind everything. There was all this great chemistry between them," he gushed as if the romance had been what he really loved about that story, then his mirth disappeared when he looked Len in the eyes, "but in the end she…betrayed him. Human nature, I guess."

"Is that what it is?"

"Well, I think it depends on motivation. When there's nothing worth wanting but something for yourself, it's hard to see beyond being egocentric. But when you have something worth fighting for," he grinned like he had Len pegged now with the arrival of Michael in his life, "your perspective changes."

"What people _want_ changes," Len took his turn at the microwave. "Doesn't make them any less selfish."

"Maybe, but The Grey Ghost, he still forgave her. He locked her away, but he said he'd be around if she ever…changed her tune."

It was a _tired_ tune for them by now, the silence that stretched between them—Barry waiting for Len to admit to something he couldn't; Len wondering when the kid would finally give it up. But when the microwave beeped, Barry shifted where he leaned against the counter to begin eating his mismatched dinner and didn't try to push.

He simply smiled and quoted in a hilarious parody of a deep announcer voice, "Who knows what haunts men in the darkest corners of their hearts?"

"The silhouette they can never outrun," Len played along, _less_ ridiculous, only for Barry to join him as they finished together, " _The Grey Ghost_ ," and Barry giggled, lighting up again like a dream, like a beautiful, unattainable dream.

"Do you ever take it out?" he asked conspiratorially.

"Scarlet," Len leaned closer to Barry, "I don't care how speedy you are, don't even think about it."

"I _wouldn't_."

No, he was too squeaky clean for that. "I have a copy worth absolutely nothing when I want to remind myself of the story."

Taking a pause from the few bites he'd taken, Len crossed the room to what he considered the junk drawer of the safe house and retrieved a beat-up copy of issue #1 that he'd found at a comic shop and paid the $5 for once upon a time. Half the front cover was missing and the pages were all faded, but it was readable.

He handed Barry the copy, and despite its roughened state, the boy excitedly started paging through it while they ate like it was some glorious prize. Len would swear there was no speed-eating involved this time, yet whenever he glanced up at a giggle or mild gasp from Barry while reading, another container of leftovers had been set aside _empty_.

" _Hey_ ," Mick startled Len from the doorway. "Ya gonna enjoy your _dinner date_ all night or are we hittin' the road soon?"

There Scarlet went again, proving his namesake. Len had partially invited Mick along to be a buffer between them. He wasn't supposed to get upset when Mick actually did some buffering.

"Sorry," Barry set the comic aside with a shamefaced shrug. They'd both finished eating a while ago, but somehow, impossibly, Len lost track of time.

"Two minutes, Mick. Just making sure our speedster recruit here doesn't faint on the job."

In a flash, the dishes had all been washed and set in the sink—handy. Then they were ready to leave.

"There's just one thing I don't get," Barry said on their way out of the safe house. "My crime scene report didn't show any forced entry or alarms set off, but the original thief had to have entered after hours. Even invisible, how did they manage that?"

"The same way _we're_ going to," Len said. "With a very fine _cut_."

XXXXX

Barry never thought he'd appreciate Snart's obsession with timing so much, but timing was all that mattered, especially when avoiding a camera above an entrance into a building that should have been one of the most secure places in all of Central City.

They had seconds to get to the door, break the lock, and get inside, and it was all based around Snart _guessing_ about how the original thief had done things.

"There's only one entrance with a rotating camera. Even if the perp _was_ invisible, the cameras would have caught the doors opening, so this has to be the one they used. If they can cut through anything, I think I know how they didn't trip any alarms."

It was the 'I think' part that worried Barry, but he trusted Snart, more so with this than with anything else.

"Seventeen seconds. Starting…now!" Snart dashed across the alleyway to their entrance of choice, and Barry followed, with Mick right behind him.

Before they'd left, Snart said, "What can cut through anything?"

"I don't know. A laser?"

"Exactly. And what also has the chance to disable an electronic keycard lock?"

The smug smile Snart glanced at Barry with as they reached the door would have been annoying if Barry wasn't so relieved. It was almost invisible unless someone knew what to look for, but the lock had the smallest traces of fine cuts right above and below the slider for a keycard.

Pulling out a very expensive looking hand-held laser cutter, Snart used the tool following the exact same path as the original thief, and in less than ten seconds, the lock blinked from red to green to admit them into the building before the camera could return their direction.

No alarms. No forced entry.

Barry had memorized the blueprints of the building, knew the path they planned to take, the areas they needed to explore, and the supposed schedule for the security guards, but Snart led the way, having all of that committed to memory just as keenly.

The normal elevators weren't an option, that would be far too suspicious, but there was a freight elevator outside the view of security, they just needed to reach it, take it up, exit without the guards seeing them, then make it across that floor to Michael's lab.

"I just have to think of this like a _Metal Gear Solid_ VR Mission," Barry said, waiting for Snart's signal to move down the next corridor.

"What you talkin' 'bout now?" Mick said.

"Don't get seen or it's game over," Barry explained, "and time is of the essence."

"Video games, Barry?" Snart said with an almost derisive cluck of his tongue. They kept their voices low, Snart watching ahead, Mick watching behind, and Barry watching both of them for cues.

"This game would be right up your alley, Snart. I'll have to show you sometime."

"Really? Odd moment to ask for a date," Snart smirked, looking practically ethereal in the dim lighting of Mercury Labs after hours.

The sudden flirt tied Barry's tongue, but he didn't want to crumble like usual or backtrack into impressive rambling, he just didn't know what to _say_. The whole point was to _not_ fall for the Parent Trap. Michael wasn't even trying that hard to set traps. But working with Snart without Lewis around to ruin it was even more fun than Barry had expected.

Did he _want_ a date? Was _this_ a date?

"Ya 'bout finished with the moon eyes, lover boys?" Mick interrupted them from—Barry wasn't really sure, but it was getting harder to pretend he didn't want to find out. "We got company."

A guard had stepped into view at the end of the corridor in front of them, looking _away_ , but a simple glance the other direction would give him a clean line of sight to all three of them.

He wasn't part of the schedule. They were waiting for the guard scheduled to come down the corridor in front of Snart before they continued forward. Meaning they were trapped between one guard inevitably heading their direction and one that only needed to turn his head to see them.

"No powers," Snart said when Barry took a breath to speak.

" _Fine_. Then move as fast as you can…now!" Taking the lead, he pushed from the wall, heading toward an unplanned corridor but one that should be empty, trusting Snart and Mick to follow him. Once they had, Barry slammed his hand against the wall as hard as he could, causing a resounding bang before they ducked out of sight.

"Are you crazy!?" Snart said in a furious whisper.

Barry swung a finger up to his mouth with a shush.

Snart all but huffed back at him, but kept quiet, as did Mick. They waited. Two sets of footsteps sounded, getting closer and closer until the guards stumbled into _each other_ , not visible from Barry's vantage point but still audible.

"Johnson? What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be on fifth?"

"I _am_. I'm on break and was heading for the vending machines."

"There's one upstairs."

"It never has what I like. Plus, I think I dropped a quarter somewhere. Don't suppose you got one?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Just get your snack and head back to your floor, huh? McGee would have our asses if she knew we strayed from the course after that last break-in."

"Five minutes, I swear, then I'm right back up there."

There was some mild grumbling, then continued footsteps _away_ from their hiding spot. Once the sound of clicking soles faded, Barry looked at Snart with a grin.

"Not bad, right? Even without powers."

Mick offered him a blank stare, but Snart seemed actually impressed for once. "We'll make a felon out of you yet, Scarlet."

XXXXX

Maybe Barry wasn't just a pretty face and lightning fast reflexes. He could _think_ on his toes too, a skill Len assumed the boy lacked given his track record with the Rogues.

Having Barry along, however, was a comfort in ways Len couldn't explain, other than that he appreciated having someone else to watch his back—and his son's. If anyone would stay true to their word to protect someone, it was The Flash, even if Barry hadn't also been Michael's friend.

That had to be a comfort because the rest of this mission churned Len's stomach. The laser cut to get inside was clever, but if this meta could affect steel like that, what could they do against flesh and blood?

There were extra cameras like McGee had warned him about, different sections of the building that required keycards, but that had meant nothing to the original thief who'd only needed a swift slice here or there. Len's recommendation would be to switch to number pads instead.

They were making good time, almost to the freight elevator, when he could have sworn he _sensed_ something off, an extra set of steps, an extra panted breath that didn't belong, _something_ , and he whirled around to look beyond Barry and Mick, itching to draw the cold gun he didn't have on him.

"What is it?" Barry glanced fretfully behind them, seeing the same empty space that Len did.

"Nothing. But stay alert. Something's not sitting right."

"You know I don't like your bad feelings, Snart," Mick clenched his fists.

"It's _fine_. Keep moving."

It hadn't been a guard, and it wasn't possible to be any other threat right now. The only explanation was that Len was anxious because this whole endeavor was about Michael, and Michael _distracted_ him. He had to shake that or he'd become a liability, and not only on this mission.

They made it to the freight elevator without incident and began their ascent.

Almost immediately, Barry started snickering.

"Somethin' funny, Red?"

"N-No."

"Thinking of another video game, Barry?" Len asked.

"Maybe _Final Fantasy VII_ with that raid on Shinra?" Mick said with a hidden smile, which Len couldn't help but echo.

"Or the ridiculously awkward elevator rides in _Mass Effect_?"

"Wait, you—" Barry cut off with a gape.

Len and Mick both smirked at him. They'd been about Barry's age when _FFVII_ and _Metal Gear Solid_ came out after all, and hocking a PlayStation was easy money back then—and certainly didn't mean they'd never kept one.

"Maybe I could show _you_ a thing or two," Len said.

Barry's cheeks darkened, but he returned Len's teasing stare like he didn't want to back down this time.

Len needed to stop flirting with danger unless he wanted to get _burned_ , especially when they had 4 seconds until Michael's floor.

3…

2…

They flattened themselves to the sides of the elevator, and when the doors opened, they waited, listened, Len stuck his hand in front of the doors to keep them from closing, and only when he was certain no guards were detouring from their planned route, did he peer out and lead them onto stage two.

From there, they'd each memorized a different path and guard schedule to better map out the security and routes to Michael's lab station. Having to trust now that his companions had their parts handled, while Mick went left and Barry right, Len continued straight on.

That strange feeling he'd had on the ground floor vanished. Maybe it wasn't only about Michael. Maybe Len just felt more at ease going solo—without _Barry_ so close at his back.

He remained a constantly cataloguing force of nature as he moved along his path, picturing the schematics in his mind perfectly, and counting out the seconds to when the guards would be in his way and when the coast was clear. He had six more items of note to share with McGee by the time he reached the rendezvous point _first_ , but he didn't wait long before Barry joined him.

"Give me your report after," Len said, "but I expect it to be thorough. Now, we wait for Mick."

Only Mick proved to be more than a few seconds late. When a full two minutes passed, Len knew it wasn't a matter of Mick being slow. Something had happened.

"What do we do now?" Barry asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, like Len had seen him do in costume, eager to _run_ , no doubt, but that wasn't how this was going to go down.

"We tail him back. Nobody gets left behind on my jobs. And before you spout off anything about _honor_ ," Len pointed a finger in Barry's face, "no one left behind means no one to snitch or blow our cover."

Turning toward the corridor Mick should have come from, Len sped forward before Barry could reply while calculating timing and guard placement backwards. He had this part of the map committed to memory as well, but not as crisply. He just hoped Mick wasn't too far back.

They bypassed one guard, the only one they should have to worry about for a while, before they came upon the obvious problem, because while there wasn't any alarm blaring audibly, a type of alarm had been tripped and blinked at them as soon as they neared one of the closed off labs—which shouldn't have been closed.

Len tapped the glass windows in a familiar pattern for Mick to recognize, and seconds later, his partner popped up out of hiding from inside the sealed room. They couldn't hear each other through the thick glass, but Mick pointed to a sign above his head also blinking, which once Len craned his neck, he could see read:

 _CONTAMINATION ALERT_

"Shoot, there must be something on Mick's clothing that set it off," Barry said, then deflated like he already knew the answer. "Sulfur."

"Common enough on Mick," Len said.

"Yeah, but sulfur can cause all kinds of chemical reactions. In a controlled environment like one of these testing labs, the air filters would be sensitive to any trace elements that might screw with results."

Fantastic. Len had known about the automatic contamination shutdowns, but he hadn't anticipated any of them would set them off. "How do we reset it to get him out?"

"The filtration system has to finish clearing out the contaminant. Depending on how much trace amounts are on Mick," Barry shrugged, "it could take a few minutes?"

"We don't have _minutes_."

"I could phase—"

" _No powers_."

" _Fine_ ," Barry shot back with more sass than Len thought deserved. "Then we have to go through the lock."

The lock for this door had a number pad like Len thought more useful. He could easily override it regardless, and more quickly than waiting for the contamination alert to reset, but he wanted to see what Barry would do.

Initially, Barry reached for the numbers, but froze.

"What now?"

"Normally, I'd try every combination at super-speed, but you said _no powers_ ," Barry snarked—a disappointment, really—then he said, "Wait, give me the laser."

"With that type of lock, you'll trigger the alarms."

"Not the way I'm planning to use it." Barry held out his hand insistently, so Len gave in.

Instead of slicing into the controls, Barry used the cutter like a surgeon's tool to remove the number pad's faceplate, exposing the wiring and allowing him to override the controls in less than thirty seconds.

Not useless after all. It also had Len second guessing his recommendations for McGee. Definitely not number pads.

The door opened and Mick rushed to join them, continuing through as he would have if he hadn't gotten caught, only for Len and Barry to realize at the same time _too late_ that they were currently in another section of testing labs.

"Wait!" they called, but Mick was already crossing the threshold with an angry, " _What?_ " when another CONTAMINATION ALERT went off and the next door down started closing.

"Go!" Barry said as he hurried to put the faceplate back in place.

Len would have told him to forget it, but it had to be done if they wanted to avoid leaving any trace that they'd been there to fool the real thief someday soon.

Pushing Mick ahead of him, Len ducked out after his friend as the door came swiftly down, moving closer and closer to the floor. Having to spring Barry like they'd just sprung Mick would cost them precious time they didn't have.

Len was seconds from telling Barry to forget their promise and use his powers, when the boy finished and came running for the door at normal speed, dropping to the floor like a baseball player stealing home, and sliding out to freedom just before the door slammed down.

That was…rather acrobatic. And incredibly _hot_. Len even allowed himself half a second to peruse the merchandise before Barry hopped up onto his feet and handed Len the laser cutter.

"Since when are _you_ so good at being a criminal?"

"Since I started trusting _you_ I guess."

"You know what I say about that, Barry."

"Yep. And you know what I say back." The kid might as well have _winked_ with how satisfied he looked, even taking lead to bring them back to the rendezvous point.

Mick snorted as they hurried after him. "Never dated, huh?"

"Shut up."

The rest of the route was boring by comparison. Before they knew it, they'd reached Michael's lab and moved cautiously toward his desk area.

"There's nothin' _there_ ," Mick said.

"Not now," Barry explained. "Michael's keeping everything locked up until we set our trap. Exit strategy?" he looked to Len.

"Less important given our overall objective, but yes. Getting out will be the easy part—for us. For _them_ …not an option. Not bad, Scarlet," he spared Barry another glance, even going so far as to do that 'eye-flick' the kid had made such a fuss about. "I might even give you a cut of the payout."

"Might?" Barry smirked.

"Unless you'd prefer to be paid some other way." Len had to stop pushing, he knew he had to stop pushing or risk actually being disheartened when Barry told him to stop.

It was highly unfair that tonight Barry held his ground _again_ , looked at Len with slyness in his smile, and said, "What did you have in mind?"

" _Hey_ ," Mick's bark broke the moment before Len could think of an answer, "who's back there?"

XXXXX

 _Damn_. He'd been hoping to stay hidden, or to make a grander entrance to show his dad a thing or two, but Michael wasn't quite as good at this as the old pros, since Mick had spotted him.

He wished that _now_ wasn't when he had to reveal himself. He hated interrupting where Barry and Len's conversation had been headed. He still couldn't believe Len had taken _Barry_ with him for this. If Mick hadn't been there, it would practically be a date. A weird date, but totally _them_.

Stepping out of the shadows to lean against a nearby doorframe, Michael made sure to appear as nonchalant as possible. He could tell in the emotions that flitted across his father's face that he was half furious half impressed that the pointers Mick had given him on how to tail someone without being seen had almost completely fooled two famous thieves and CCPD's leading CSI.

 _Of course_ Michael had to be here tonight. He couldn't help it that he was restless to catch the person who'd stolen his research so he could get it back on track. It hadn't bothered him at first, it really hadn't, because this was a great opportunity to get Barry and Len back together, but while he had his notes and his own memory to move forward, he needed that cyclotron and a few of the other stolen components to finish this, even with all of Cisco and Hartley's help.

He was so _close_. And maybe, if he achieved absolute zero, it would make up for how he'd failed.

"So. Dinner at the West house tomorrow?"

* * *

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

The one benefit to Michael showing up last night had been seeing Snart's _face_. He'd looked so livid at first, an expression Barry knew well from Joe, but then he'd also looked gratified, how could he not when Michael had proven he had the Snart family chops for B&Es?

Although Snart _had_ almost caught Michael, sensing something downstairs in that supernatural way of his. Michael had gone a different route to the upper floors, taking the main elevators using his employee keycard, but he'd still gotten one up on his old man.

Aside from the entertainment factor—Snart really was such a _dad_ when it came to reprimanding Michael—Barry was big enough to admit he was disappointed they'd been interrupted. Snart never let up with the flirting, the banter, the eye-glances, that damn swagger and allure, and Barry was running out of reasons to not want all of that to keep happening.

Combined family dinner night could end all that in its tracks. Really, Barry was only worried about _Joe_ , but he could do plenty of damage on his own. Barry wasn't sure _what_ to expect from Henry.

He was starting another morning at STAR Labs before work, daily copy of Picture News in hand to make sure Linda had done as promised—and she had, no unwanted surprises. As usual, the lights were on as Barry entered the Cortex.

"Hey, man, where you at?" he called, since Cisco wasn't immediately visible. "I need to hear about this date night!"

No response. Cisco must already be working. Barry checked the rest of the Cortex, the Pipeline, then finally moved to the Accelerator.

"Cisco?! You here?"

Which was where he found him, after a clank like he'd kicked something and a flail of limbs, appearing from the opening into the Accelerator itself as if he'd been taking a nap.

"What were you doing?" Barry snickered at his friend's tousled hair and sleepy expression, "I thought—" only for a second tousled head to appear next to him. " _Lisa_?!"

Apparently, the date was still going.

"Barry! Hey, man, this is…you know who this is," Cisco hurriedly tried to right the state of his wavy mane, nearly tripping as he jumped down from the Accelerator and helped Lisa down after him. "We were just…uhh…"

"I'll give you a minute," Barry saved him the trouble, "take your time, really," and retreated swiftly back into the Cortex.

A few minutes later, Cisco and Lisa came in looking slightly less rumpled, though while 'embarrassed' didn't appear to be part of Lisa's repertoire, Cisco was several shades darker than usual.

"I remember you," she said now that she had a good look at Barry. "From the bar that night, right?"

"Barry," he shook her hand—at least she was friendlier than Mick.

"Michael's friend," she said with a growing smirk. "Or should I say _Lenny's_?"

Cisco's eyes went wide in apology behind her, but Barry was well past caring if the Rogues knew his name.

"Yes and no," he nodded at the nearby Flash suit.

Understanding dawned on Lisa the second she glanced at it and back to Barry.

"Snart and I never dated, I'm just The Flash and he doesn't want Michael to know."

" _Dude_ ," Cisco sputtered at his candor.

"It's fine, Cisco. I told Mick last night before the break-in."

"Heat Wave knows now too? Why even _have_ a mask at this point?"

Barry glowered at him, but Lisa just giggled.

"That is a shame, honey," she said. "The never dated part, I mean. Here I thought Lenny had some fling he never told me about but it's all bunk, huh? Anything we can do to change that?" she batted her eyes the way Barry imagined she often did with Cisco, though this time for her brother's sake, and once again, he noticed the family resemblance to Michael—at least where scheming was involved.

"Michael certainly seems to think so," Barry said. "He and Snart are coming over for dinner tonight. Joe's idea. As in my adopted dad, Joe West."

" _Detective_ West is your…oh, this is too good." She hopped up onto Cisco's desk as if eager for gossip, much to Cisco's continued shock. "I'd invite myself along to be a fly on that wall, but I'm sure Michael will give me the 411. Just what are your intentions with my brother, _Flash_?"

"I'm…not really sure anymore," Barry glanced away with a nervous chuckle.

" _Bro_ ," Cisco forgot his stupor over the situation and hopped onto the desk beside Lisa, "seriously?"

"I don't know. Maybe? We've been having a lot of fun lately," Barry shrugged, unable to stop his automatic tell of scratching the back of his neck, "but he's pretty adamant about not changing his stripes, you know? And I wouldn't _ask_ him to," he said to Lisa directly, "I just think he might want to do things differently now for Michael's sake, for himself too, but can't admit it."

"Sounds like you got Lenny pegged," Lisa said with a softer smile. "As a general family rule, we don't tend to admit when we're wrong. Michael's a beacon of hope for Lenny after…"

"What happened with your dad," Barry finished.

That sad 'I'm strong because I have to be' smile was a well-known expression to Barry; he'd worn it for years, but it was the way Cisco scooted closer and took her hand without a word, and how her smile twitched wider in reply that warmed him.

"Lenny's worst fear was always turning out like Dad," she said. "Sometimes, he thinks he failed. Michael gives him hope that he hasn't. But he's not used to all these warm fuzzy feelings, domestic bliss and all that. He's scared, needs some sense of control to cling to."

"Sounds like you know your brother too," Barry said.

"If only that meant he'd listen to me more often. You might be able to make more headway than you think. As Flash _and_ Barry. Michael trusts you."

"Michael is my friend. Snart is…"

"Your supervillain fake ex-boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Barry huffed another laugh.

"Well," Lisa hopped down from her perch, "you work on figuring out what that means to you, honey. I'm sure Michael's keeping a close eye on the situation. I for one can't wait to see how it all turns out. But screw with my brother's feelings and you'll make a lovely gilded statue for my living room," she said with a dangerous twist to her smile, then turned to place a lingering kiss on Cisco's cheek. "See ya later, Cisco. Call me. Flash," she nodded at Barry before strolling out of the Cortex as if she wasn't wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Dude," Barry could finally react to that properly, " _all night_? Nice."

"No, no, no. As much as I would love bragging rights," Cisco dropped down from the desk himself, "we stayed up all night _talking_ , then dozed off like an hour before you got here."

"Really?" Barry quelled the desire to gush at how sweet that was.

"Yeah," Cisco gave a dopey smile. "It was awesome. Did you know she can take an engine apart faster than Rory _and_ put it back together? I'm gonna need to crash hard at some point, but _so_ worth it. Snart doesn't want to kill me, right?" he asked with sudden worry.

"I don't think so," Barry chuckled. "He might want to kill _me_ after tonight. What am I thinking allowing family dinner with _Joe_?"

"Apparently, about _not_ fake-dating Cold, which I realize I'm supposed to be against and all, but…" He gazed longingly the direction Lisa had gone.

What a pair they made.

"But hey," Cisco turned back to him, "you'll have Michael as a buffer, right?"

Barry wasn't so sure that would matter if Joe pushed, or if Snart did, considering the way he'd chewed Michael out at Mercury Labs last night. On the plus side, they hadn't had to exit like criminals to finish the job, but walked out with Michael giving the confused guards a wave.

They had what they needed to set their trap now. The contamination lockdown had actually given Barry an idea, which they'd discussed on their way back to the safe house where he parted ways with the others for the night.

Snart said he'd handle writing the report Michael should be giving to McGee about _now_ , so some things would already be in place before the end of the day. Michael would oversee all that directly before coming to STAR Labs to continue working with Cisco, though Barry wasn't entirely sure what they were working on today.

"We're making good headway on his research _without_ his research," Cisco said when Barry asked. "He's pretty intense about it, almost like another person when he gets focused. More like Cold actually…"

"But you can't finish what he was working on without the components the thief stole, right?"

"Right, but if you and Team Rogues catch the thief soon, Michael figures he's that much closer to a breakthrough. Said he was calling in _Hartley_ again too."

"Sheer torture for you?" Barry snorted at Cisco's immediate eye-roll.

"Eh," Cisco shrugged, collapsing into his roller chair, "he's not so bad. _Sometimes_. With Michael around, he's almost pleasant. And man, is it fun to bounce ideas off both of them. Between the three of us, we could probably take over the world. But I promise I'll do my best to make sure Pied Piper and Kid Cold never realize that."

Barry chuckled harder. "The world thanks you. Also, FYI, I guess Snart and I are meeting Michael here to head to the house together later."

This time the eye-roll was accompanied by a groan. "You know how I _love_ seeing Cold on my turf on the regular."

"You just had a sleepover with his sister."

"Totally innocent sleepover," Cisco reminded him. "Minimal making out."

"But there was making out?"

" _Oh_ yeah. You?"

" _No_ ," Barry choked. "We were committing a crime, technically."

Cisco gave in to sleepy chuckles. "Sounds like Captain Cold foreplay to me. Less likely people have been worthy of a second chance. Okay, maybe not _less_ likely, but equally not very likely people."

Like Barry's dad, he thought. Though maybe Oliver was a closer approximation.

 _Oliver_. He would hate everything about this, but that was a problem for another day.

"Have fun with the science brigade," Barry said, patting the desk to leave Cisco be, since his friend had kicked up his feet, leaned back in his chair, _and_ closed his eyes, "and take a nap before they get here."

"Already ahead of you," Cisco waved him away.

XXXXX

Len couldn't believe he was going through with this and that he had _brownies_ to contribute. Lisa had dropped him off since they'd be taking Michael's car to the West house, _with_ Barry. The kid didn't have a car—and wasn't supposed to have a way to get places _without_ a car like a human Roadrunner—and Len didn't like the idea of showing up with Michael without an immediately accessible shield. Lisa had waxed on about the situation with far too much mocking.

Barry really was taking their recent truce to heart though. He'd told Lisa the truth just like he'd told Mick. Now the only person who didn't know Barry was The Flash was Michael, which should have been a comfort, made it easier to keep it all straight and make sure Michael never found out. Because that would keep him safer, wouldn't it? Out of the line of fire if he wasn't in the know about one of Central City's biggest criminal targets.

The logic behind keeping that secret from Michael had made sense to Len originally, because he wanted all of this to be done with after the thief was caught and Michael's research was returned to him. No more fringe work, no Flash team-ups, no play-dates at STAR Labs. Michael could be friends with Barry and Cisco and all the rest of them on his own without putting any negative spotlight on him, and Len didn't have to be a part of any of it, didn't _want_ to be a part of it.

Right?

The prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck alerted him to Barry's approach before the coppery smell or the telling whoosh of air and flicker of lightning. In moments, Len had a companion at his side heading down the STAR Labs hallways.

"Hey, Snart, hang on. We should probably pretend you picked me up. How else did I get here?"

Len kept his eyes forward, suppressing the reaction to smile at Barry's arrival. Of course he hadn't thought about the obvious questions that might arise from this plan. "You really need to work on your lying, kid."

"Or just _not_ lie," Barry said. "It's a habit I've been trying to break."

"Like with Lisa," Len slid his eyes to Barry knowingly, who looked good in a long-sleeved shirt and bomber jacket, "divulging your secret this morning? Tell me, why was she here so early if her date was last night?"

"Oh, uhh…" Barry went a healthy shade of _red_.

"You let me know how that 'no lying' rule works out for you." For now, Len still wanted to keep his son out of it and safe.

Barry attempted to think up a good lie, or any sort of comeback, but didn't manage one before he sniffed the air and glanced for the first time at the pan Len was carrying. "What do you have that smells so good?" he said with eager eyes as they rounded the corner into the Cortex, which turned out to be empty, the silence the only thing that drew Barry's attention back up. "Where is everyone? Cisco? Hartley?"

" _Hartley_?" Len turned to Barry with a frown.

"I mean…uhh…Michael?" Barry spun quickly to hide his failing poker face.

It was eerily quiet, not like the room was empty, but as if the occupants were in hiding, breathing, waiting, planning an _ambush_ , Len realized, moments before the trap was sprung.

Ready to use the pan of brownies as a weapon, Len was stunned to immobility when someone wearing a pair of silver goggles with tiny slits to see through sprang up from behind the desk, bringing him face to face with—a _cold gun_.

" _Freeze_ ," a voice said as if to parody Len to absurdity, and only in that moment of uncharacteristic but all-encompassing _panic_ did Len realize he had nothing to fear, because the owner of the gun was his _son_.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" he shoved the pan into Barry's arms so he could stalk toward Michael threateningly.

Michael had the gall to _giggle_ , followed by additional laughter from Cisco and Hartley, who appeared from their hiding spot in the med room. The goggles came down and were tossed aside, some relic of STAR Labs, but the gun was not a toy or a vacuum cleaner this time.

It was smaller than Len's, just slightly, still silver with glowing blue power cells, but had a larger barrel for a wider spread. And it looked charged. It looked _lethal_.

"Relax, Dad," Michael pulled back to prevent Len from snatching the gun from his hands, "it doesn't work. Not yet. This is going to be our bait for the thief."

"Our _bait_?" Len repeated, practically smoldering. "The _bait_ was supposed to be your remaining research."

"And it is, because it's all in the gun," Michael lifted it proudly.

" _That's_ what you were working on today," Barry said, though half his attention was on the pan again.

Len snagged it back from him before he could steal a piece. "You knew about this?"

"I, umm…" Barry failed spectacularly once more at coming up with a lie.

"No firing pin, Dad," Michael interjected. "So even if the thief gets their hands on the gun and implements the rest of my research, it still wouldn't fire without _this_." He lifted the important missing piece that he then slipped into his own pocket.

"I don't like this," Len said. He hadn't given in and let Michael see _his_ gun yet; he hadn't expected the boy to make his own.

"It's my research," Michael defended. "I'm not slowing down just because of one person. I'm so _close_."

"I thought your research had nothing to do with a gun."

"It doesn't. But using one as the conduit for absolute zero isn't _against_ the research. The principles are the same." Michael inspected the gun with an appreciation that spoke to Len's own obsessive tendencies, which he did not enjoy seeing echoed. "It's fine, Dad," he said when he caught Len's stare, "I know what I'm doing."

"Twenty-year-olds always think that," Len grumbled.

"Good thing I'm twenty- _three_ then," Michael said.

Len glared at him. That _wasn't_ the point.

"I'll be taking that," Hartley came up behind Michael to swipe the gun away.

"What for?" Len growled. At least Cisco had the decency to look cowed, much as part of that might have been from dating Lisa; Hartley took it all in stride.

"I'm dropping this off at Mercury Labs tonight so everything's in place in case our thief is feeling frisky. Michael convinced McGee to consider me for an open position. We met earlier so I have free reign to drop this off past security undisturbed."

Len glanced at Michael with renewed accusation.

"We'd be in entirely different departments, Dad," Michael rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Hart. I appreciate it."

 _Hart_ , urg. Why couldn't Michael fall for a boring non-meta, _non_ -former felon?

"When you want a job done right," Hartley winked at him, then placed the gun in a nearby case before turning to head out. "Have a nice dinner, boys."

And now _dinner_. Wonderful.

Surely, this evening couldn't get any worse.

XXXXX

Iris met them at the door instead of Detective West, which was an initial bonus, though she also glomped onto Michael with a squeal, which gave Len the distinct impression of being outnumbered and out of his depth. He'd never done anything like this in his 40+ years—an intimate family dinner party in the suburbs.

"Iris! You are even more gorgeous than I remember," Michael squeezed her tightly.

"Oh hush. _You_ look amazing. And here I always wondered where those dazzling blue eyes came from." She turned her attention to Len with her usual impenetrable boldness.

"Miss West."

"Snart. I assume you're not armed this time?"

"I never made that promise," Len said, though he supposed he might hang the cold gun up with his jacket if he was feeling brash enough—and trusted that no one would swipe it.

Barry had somehow acquired the pan of brownies again while Len removed his jacket and the cleverly concealed weapon and was peeking under the tinfoil. "You made _brownies_?"

" _Dad_ made the brownies," Michael affirmed. "He's a really good baker."

"Of course he is," Barry said. "Is there anything you're not good at, Snart?"

"No dessert before dinner, _Barry_." Len yanked the pan away from him.

The responding pout was positively criminal. "Really taking this dad thing seriously, huh?"

"Or there are just certain manners everyone should abide by… _superheroes_ included," Len finished as a whisper at Barry's ear while Michael was distracted.

He'd swear the boy shivered. "Fine, but if they're as delicious as they smell, I'm making you repay me for all those coffees in baked goods."

Len snorted.

"Still keeping up on my articles, Snart?" Iris asked, as she led them further into the living room.

"Always. Though this morning, I had the pleasure of reading Miss Park's take on things. You two combined at Picture News could be quite the power couple."

"I think we can save that for Wally," she grinned at the newest member of the West family, who rose from the sofa to greet them, all smiles and boyish good looks.

"You got another date lined up?" Barry asked.

"Maybe…" Wally looked away with an obvious blush. "Is that weird? I didn't mean to overstep, man—"

"No!" Barry said as if flustered by the question. "I mean, Linda and I _barely_ dated."

 _That's_ where Miss Park fit in. "You just make all the rounds, don't you, Barry?"

"Trust me," he shot Len a serious look, "I make very few rounds. Snart, Michael, this is my brother Wally," he introduced them.

"Hey," Wally waved rather than extended his hand. _Millennials_.

"Hi," Michael smiled just as brightly. "Barry was telling me we have quite a bit in common concerning long-lost fathers."

"So I heard." Wally drew in almost conspiratorially closer. "Do you also have to deal with him treating you like a ten-year-old even though we're in our twenties?"

" _Constantly_ ," Michael said.

They dove right into their own conversation as if the rest of the room fell away, mostly revolving around short-comings that Len and West had in common, apparently.

"That is going to be disastrous, I can feel it…" Len said.

Barry snickered, then straightened like a soldier being reprimanded by a drill sergeant as the kitchen door swung open and West finally appeared, followed by Henry Allen and Tina McGee.

Upon seeing Len, West headed straight for him, putting him on the defensive, a feeling he'd been expecting. The brownie pan made for a nice shield at least since Barry was no help.

"Snart," West said like he wasn't quite sure he'd made the right decision inviting Len and Michael into his home, though a glance at Michael and Wally mid-laugh over whatever they were discussing seemed to relax him. "I see some of the family is already swayed."

"We brought dessert," Len pushed the pan at West rather than engage in the pissing contest they'd likely get to later.

West took it but stared at the container skeptically.

"If you're concerned about its contents, Detective, I'm sure Michael will happily eat the first bite to prove it isn't poisoned. That is, assuming he can beat _Barry_ to it." Len was about to greet McGee and Henry next when Michael erupted loudly.

"Ulrich was the _worst_! But you learn so much in his class," he commiserated with Wally over CCU courses, which Len supposed was better than complaining about overbearing fathers. "You're almost ready to graduate, huh? Any idea what you want to do next?"

The way Wally glanced at Barry, big brown eyes and even bigger smile looking on hopefully, said all he cared about was joining the hero team, much as Len could tell West wasn't too keen on his children putting themselves on the frontlines. He could relate entirely.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Wally said.

"Frankly, I'd be honored if Wallace decided to put his hat in the ring at Mercury Labs," Tina said.

"Really?" Wally perked up.

"I know a few professors who keep me apprised of upcoming talent."

"Hey now," Joe broke up the discussion before Wally could look too excited at the prospect, "no moving my son out before the first one's gone, alright? As the youngest," he gestured with the pan still in his hands at Wally and Michael, "you two win the lottery of finishing setting the table. And put these in the kitchen, huh?" he handed the pan to Wally, to which Barry looked on longingly.

If the key to the kid's heart was through his stomach…Len didn't know what to do with that information.

Michael and Wally headed off like peas in a pod, already back to happily chatting.

"Sounds like you're also considering Hartley Rathaway for a position," Len couldn't resist mentioning in the silence that followed.

McGee read between the lines with an aptitude Len appreciated, and frankly, it made him feel considerably better that Michael was working for such a shrewd woman. "I can see the benefits in overlooking a criminal record where it suits me, Mr. Snart."

"And speaking of…" Henry stepped forward, the first to extend Len an actual handshake, even eagerly and so very much like _Barry_ with the way he offered Len his full attention and a warm-hearted smile. "Leonard," he said as they shook.

"Doc. Freedom suits you." He always was a good-looking man, but there was a light in him now that Len had never seen before.

"You two know each other?" Barry gaped.

"We crossed paths in the Heights," Len tried to say dismissively so as not to cause a fuss. "Not secretly _besties_ , Barry, if you're worried about that."

" _I_ was worried for a while there that you were targeting my son," Henry said, "until I learned that once you knew his name, you played things differently, even saved his life a time or two. Don't deny it, Leonard," he chuckled when Len cleared his throat to counter that, "just let me say _thank you_."

Michael wasn't close enough to overhear or infer anything Flash related while in the kitchen, but the topic still put Len on the spot. He wasn't sure which was worse, West's cynicism or Henry's faith.

"He's helped me with father and _son_ alike," Len said, "and helped save my sister once. Figure keeping an eye on him when he runs in without a plan is a fair trade."

"I don't run in without a plan," Barry crossed his arms petulantly.

"Not _ever_ huh?"

"I… _usually_ have a plan."

Iris and Henry both snickered.

West was less amused. "Why don't we head into the dining room so we can eat?" he said as Michael and Wally came back to set some final items on the table. "Drinks are in the kitchen. Snart, beer?" he offered with only mild gauging.

A few open beers were already on the table, so Len figured, "Why not."

So far, so good, and in some ways, Len felt like the outnumbered one in the house tonight was _West_ , and that didn't feel half bad.

XXXXX

Barry could hardly believe dinner was actually _not_ a disaster. At least through most of the meal. Spaghetti and meatballs was one of Joe's specialties, with salad and bread and those _brownies_ waiting in the kitchen—with ice cream, Barry decided, because that would be _amazing_ , especially if they were as delicious as they looked.

There were a surprising amount of things to discuss that brought them nowhere near Flash talk, including Wally's schooling, Michael's job, how Henry and Tina had gotten together, since Michael was bursting with questions about that and somehow managed to ask without overstepping boundaries with his boss, and of course any news stories Iris was working on.

Barry wondered sometimes if Joe and Henry planned to sit one at each head of the table on purpose, but regardless that's how they ended up with Tina, Michael, and Snart on one side, then Barry across from Snart beside Iris and Wally.

It was so strange, having dinner across from Snart, in Barry's home, without any threats or weapons involved—well, at least within range. But it was also nice, because Snart couldn't keep up his _Cold_ persona with Michael sitting right beside him softening his comebacks.

Though Michael could be _sharp_ when he wanted to be.

"I'm just glad you two aren't _dating_ anymore," Joe said, bringing up the subject Barry had hoped to avoid, but a couple beers tended to make Joe daring.

"Oh?" Michael said without losing his smile. "And why is that?"

The table went quiet, because Joe couldn't respond without saying something _mean_ , and having Michael's attention on him with that patient but challenging smile had him trapped.

"Because people can't change?" he continued.

" _Michael_."

"No, Dad, I want to say this. Dinner has been great, Detective. I'm glad you invited us. But I think you need to hear that my dad's never been anything but good to me. He didn't have to listen or want to connect when I showed up on his doorstop. He wasn't a part of my life before, didn't even know I existed. Just like you and Wally. But despite all that, dismissing me never crossed his mind." The way he looked at Snart was so heartfelt and _pure_ , even Snart looked disarmed when their eyes met, and Joe cleared his throat of the biting comment he'd had ready.

"You're right. I'm sorry about that. Guess I got a bad habit of assuming the worst on occasion."

"More like _all the time_ ," Wally said, which prompted Barry and Iris to jump in too.

"There was this one time—"

"Once he actually almost—"

"We don't need _examples_ ," Joe cut them off, causing most of the table to dissolve into laughter that eased the remaining tension.

"You know, Snart's a jazz fan, Joe," Barry said to change the subject.

"That right?"

"When I have time," Snart tried to downplay his interest but couldn't resist adding, "I prefer local musicians. Julio Mendez is an overlooked talent."

"No way. I saw his first show," Joe leaned closer.

"As did I. Must have been sitting in opposite corners, Detective," Snart smiled.

"Guess so," Joe couldn't help but smile back.

"At least you have that in common," Iris said. "Barry _hates_ jazz."

"I don't _hate_ it. I like plenty of jazz songs," Barry explained to Snart, "but only when the singer is the focus and the song isn't seven minutes of wailing saxophone."

Snart and Michael both laughed, and Barry noticed the way Snart's smile smoothed out his entire face.

"Remember that time Dad was trying to school you on 'the greats'," Iris squeezed Barry's arm, "and you fell asleep to that _awful_ record—"

" _Hey_ ," Joe pointed a finger at them, "none of my vinyls are _awful_."

Barry and Iris giggled together, leaning easily into each other, and Barry caught Michael's eyes that had become strangely laser-focused.

"Hey, Barry," he said, though his smile seemed off now, "why don't you help me clear away the dishes so we can get those brownies served."

 _Yes_ , Barry promptly forgot everything else, already pushing out of his seat to gather empty plates. "Best idea I've heard all night."

"You get _one_ piece," Snart said to him.

"I'd like to see you make me," Barry dared him, and turned for the kitchen with Michael following.

It didn't dawn on Barry that Michael had an ulterior motive until they'd set everything by the sink, and before he could seek out the brownie pan, Michael pushed into his space.

"Am I crazy, or do I remember you having a thing for your sister?"

" _What_?" Barry winced. "No. I mean…she's not my sister."

"But you had a thing for her?"

"It wasn't meant to be."

"So you two…?"

Barry ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.

"Sorry," Michael pulled back, "I'm prying, I don't mean to do that, I just remember how I figured you for gay until I found out about Iris, coz, you know, you were dating a _guy_ when we met."

"I've had more girlfriends, to be honest." Barry leaned back against the counter, understanding now where Michael's smile had gone. "The truth is, my last girlfriend moved to a new city to pursue another career, and I didn't try to stop her. I realized I couldn't let her into my life, that she wasn't the one I _wanted_ to let into my life. I'd always thought the person I did want was Iris, but when I thought about being with her, after everything that happened between us, after her fiancé died…"

"Oh," Michael's eyes widened. "Wow."

"Yeah. Sort of a heavy thing to follow. But it made me realize, when I stopped being selfish about what I wanted, that she wasn't being honest about what _she_ wanted. She never wanted me the way I thought I wanted her. Not really."

"You would have been settling for each other," Michael said.

"I never thought I could love anyone like her, but it stung knowing there'd always be this part of her that wished she'd had the chance to be with someone else. That's not her fault, but I can't escape being selfish, I guess, coz what I really want is someone who'd rather have _me_ , no matter the options or obstacles, no matter what."

"That's not selfish," Michael said with his usual smile. "It's romantic."

"I'm just glad it didn't put a wedge between us. Iris is my best friend."

Michael nodded, seeming to understand now, but there was an edge of mischief that entered his expression. "Nice to know you're open to finding love elsewhere."

"Maybe," Barry chuckled, feeling his cheeks darken. "Maybe I am."

"Hey, _Dad_ ," Michael said, whipping Barry's attention to the door, where _Snart_ had managed to enter silently despite his own collection of dishes, "why don't you help Barry finish up? I wanted to talk to Wally about something."

That little…

" _Something_ , is it?" Snart sensed the boy's scheming just as easily.

"Yep," Michael said, and was gone the next moment.

Snart almost looked apologetic as he set down his dishes. "Back to Parent Trapping?"

"Seems so," Barry said, glad for the moment alone, because he hadn't told anyone what happened between him and Iris, and he felt remarkably freed having that weight off his chest. "Could be worse though."

With a smirk, he zipped through doing the dishes and had the brownies divvied up into bowls—ice cream thawing on the counter for those who wanted it—in barely a blink, giving them time to talk before the next person came sauntering in.

"Check the cabinet over there," Barry gestured behind Snart at the hutch in the corner.

"For…?" he glanced back warily.

"Just check it."

Inside were an assortment of Santa Claus mugs put away for the holidays—and one shaped like a reindeer.

"If you can find a way to smuggle that out of here, seriously, please do."

"Are you asking me to steal from Detective West?" Snart feigned affront.

"Maybe."

"And why would I do that when he's been almost cordial to me tonight?"

"Because," Barry said, moving slowly across the kitchen to join Snart, hand trailing along the countertop to make it clear he was prowling on purpose, "you like stealing, you like getting one over on people, especially when they don't trust you, and that mug is _hideous_ but…sentimental."

Bending down to retrieve it from the cabinet, Barry was forced to lean across Snart's body in the process. He set the mug behind Snart on the hutch's shelf by reaching around his waist and then…didn't move away.

"Consider it a belated Christmas present, and if you manage to get it out of the house without Joe noticing," he leaned a fraction of an inch closer, "I owe you a bag of mini marshmallows."

Barry could have sworn that the way Snart looked at him when he pulled back was like he might be falling in love with him that moment.

But the expression soon fell. "This isn't permanent."

"But it is addicting. A lot of surprising things can be addicting once you get a taste."

"Careful with those words, Barry," Snart didn't try to hide the way his eyes strayed to Barry's lips, "I'll get the wrong idea."

"What if it's _not_ the wrong idea?" Sliding his other arm around Snart's waist as well, Barry boxed him in completely, to which he flinched at first but eased back toward Barry in a way he'd never seen with anyone else. "See you keep calling my bluff, and I keep folding, but maybe I don't want to fold anymore." This time, he wanted that kiss they kept denying themselves.

"Barry…" Snart whispered against his approaching lips.

"Yeah…?"

"Are you vibrating?"

"What?" Barry reared back. "I mean, _sometimes_ , but…wait." Realizing that something _was_ vibrating, he checked his phone that had been pressed against Snart's leg.

" _Sometimes?_ "

 _Crap_ , Barry thought as he looked to see if the buzzing was a call. It wasn't.

The kitchen door swung open and in came Joe, followed by Iris. Their phones were going off the same way.

"Meta alert," Joe said, only taking a moment to frown at the proximity between Barry and Snart before he added, "Guess that thief already took the bait."

"Does this mean we get to call The Flash?" Michael said before his head popped up over Joe's shoulder.

Why did this have to happen _now_?

"Better call him, Scarlet," Snart said, though Barry hoped the crook to his smirk meant he was disappointed too. "Coz I'm gonna need a faster ride."

* * *

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

Telling Michael that no, he was not allowed to meet The Flash, Len would wait for the speedster outside, was the easy part after the initial meta alert ruined family dinner. Coming up with an excuse for Barry to go missing was more difficult, but thankfully, West headed out in answer to the call and asked for Barry to join him.

Barry was CSI, after all. Simple and mostly honest lies worked best.

Seconds after West pulled out of the driveway, Len was whisked away from the front stoop by a blur.

Caitlin had joined Cisco at STAR Labs and was hard at work with her counterpart when they arrived to collect The Flash suit. Len was about to ply the pair for specifics on the alert when he glanced at Barry, mostly changed now but with the cowl still drawn back— _eating a brownie_.

" _When_?" Len gaped at him. "You didn't have that when you went off with West."

Barry swallowed the last bite as if he feared Len would snag it. "I made a pitstop in the kitchen before I grabbed you. I need the calories!"

The little _thief_. Len would have been amused, charmed, even, especially after their close call with the revival of the reindeer mug and Barry's boldness angling for a kiss, if not for their current crisis. He could lament the interruption and how much he longed to take Barry up on that offer later.

"We need to get to Mercury Labs," he said after shaking his head at the kid. " _Now_."

"I thought you were all about having a plan, Cold," Cisco said, "coz this…is weird."

"Weird how?" Barry moved to his friends' side to see what they were looking at on Cisco's monitors, prompting Len to do the same.

There were dozens of picture-in-picture displays with one main room enlarged at a time as Cisco went through each one following the same path that Len, Barry, and Mick had gone through last night, showing unlocked doors and disabled cameras that occasionally cut off their view.

"Whoever this is, they are blowing through the building fast, following the exact path you guys left open but avoiding all the traps. If it wasn't for the added dark matter sensors going off, we wouldn't even know someone was there, but security measures are definitely being disabled." Cisco glanced up at Len. "I'd almost think it was _you_ again."

"Like we have a leak?" Barry balked. "There's no way. And don't say _Hartley_."

"Or," Len spoke over any comments Cisco might have made, "like someone was following us last night." Hartley was too smart to risk crossing Len directly, especially while courting his son.

"That was Michael," Barry dismissed.

Leaning further over Cisco's shoulder, Len pointed to the currently displayed screen showing the freight elevator. "Can you pull up this same footage from last night? Right as we were moving through the area?"

Cisco's hands moved across the keyboard to bring up a larger picture-in-picture display of that same view from the previous night's test run, pausing on the footage about the time Len and the others would have been there.

"If you want a look at _us_ ," Barry said, "it won't work. The whole point was to avoid the cameras."

"I don't need to see us." Len reached over Cisco to begin playback, then paused closer to when he would have been glancing behind him, certain he'd sensed someone there before they reached the elevator.

The camera in this hallway had a much slower rotation than the one outside the door they broke in initially, and since it was currently swung away from them, Len didn't see himself or Barry and Mick, but he did see exactly what he needed to prove his theory.

"This is where I would have been looking when I thought we were being followed." He tapped the screen.

"And that was Michael," Barry said again.

"No, _that_ is Michael," Len pointed to a peek of the boy behind another corner, when the spot he'd indicated moments earlier was nowhere near Michael's hiding spot. Not as good at keeping out of view as his old man, turned out, but that actually made Len relieved more than disappointed.

"You think the meta tailed you and watched the entire test run?" Caitlin restated.

"How could they have known we were going to do that," Barry said. "Linda's article didn't print until this morning."

"Maybe there's a leak at the paper," she offered. "Maybe the thief was stalking you in Jitters when you talked to Linda. But if they were somehow invisible, why didn't they take Michael's research when they followed you?"

"The research wasn't there," Barry shook his head, "Michael had put it elsewhere. The thief would have known they'd have to come back."

"They might not know about the final trap," Len said. "We discussed it later, out of the building, and Hartley didn't set it up until the time we were arriving at the West house. We have to get there," he focused on Barry, "before they reach the gun."

"We've been alerted, but other than Joe, the police haven't yet." Barry pulled up his cowl. "We can go in the same way the thief did, at _my_ speed. You ready?"

"Let's go."

"We'll keep our eyes open for… _nothing_ apparently," Cisco gestured at his empty screens seconds before Len's stomach lurched with Barry's take off.

Besides the initial gut clench, he was getting used to being whisked away by The Scarlet Speedster, though having something that thrilling over so quickly wasn't really his… _speed_. He wished he could enjoy the ride a little longer, but he wasn't about to tell Barry that.

They arrived in barely enough time for Len to take a few breaths, the world rematerializing on Michael's floor of the building, past the contamination-rigged rooms but before they entered the workstations. Len wished he was in costume, but he had his gloves, goggles, and gun at least, and his trench coat had its own aesthetic.

"What was that, Cisco?" Barry whispered, bringing a hand to his ear. Gloves already in place, Len pulled up his goggles and drew his gun as he leaned into Barry to overhear.

"Maybe there's more than _nothing_ to see there," Cisco said. "The trap just went off."

Len and Barry looked at each other, silently agreeing that it was time to move. Entering the lab together in perfect synch, they scanned the room like they'd done this a dozen times together, each taking a side in case the thief had an accomplice waiting in the wings. But besides the blinking lights around Michael's workstation, there was nothing but stillness.

The idea for the trap had been inspired by the contamination alert that caught Mick, only for the thief, it was a motion detector. Even if they were invisible, when they grabbed the gun, that motion would have registered, and it did, causing Michael's desk to be quarantined from floor to ceiling in a glass cage, while a beacon of light at the computer blinked with the signal that had been sent to STAR Labs.

The gun remained on the desk in plain view, but to the naked eye, there was no one inside.

"We're here," Barry said into his comms as he and Len slowly approached, "and the gun's still safe, but if the thief is inside with it, we can't see them."

Len prickled with anticipation. This wasn't some trick for the cameras, the meta really was invisible. There was no way they weren't inside the trap if the gun was still there. "How do we open that thing?" There wasn't a door or any obvious disabling mechanism.

"It can be done remotely from STAR Labs," Barry said, eyeing the trap with equal trepidation, "but as soon as we lift the cage, then what?"

"We can't sit here all night waiting for one of those security guards to come strolling through."

Barry worried his lip, brow scrunched as he considered their options, finally glancing around at the surroundings like an idea had sparked. "We're in a lab. They have to have something we can use."

"Use for what?" Len said as Barry began a rapid-fire inspection of the cabinets as if he was looking for something specific.

"To make our thief more visible. Aha!" Barry said in triumph, pulling two containers out of a low cabinet and zipping back to Len's side. He kept one container for himself and handed the other to Len.

"Baby powder?" he said as he inspected it.

"Talcum powder is useful for drying out liquids and…doesn't matter," Barry said. "I figured the lab would have some. We can use it to give us an idea of where the thief is once we release the trap. We each take a side," he flashed around to the other side of the glass cage, "and as soon as the walls retract, we dowse the area." Removing the cap on his container, he gave it a firm squeeze, causing a puff of powder to explode into the air, even leaving residue on his otherwise spotless red gloves.

Clever, but Len had to add, "Or I could just ice it all and save us the hassle. Michael would understand."

Barry shot him an unamused look.

"Fine," Len said with a sigh, putting his cold gun in its holster so he could get both hands on the container. "Can they hear us in there?"

"No, it's the same type of glass that caught Mick."

With a slow step forward, Len tapped a finger against the surface, imagining the thief looking right back at him. "Then I hope they're nice and scared sitting in the quiet." After moving back a pace, he nodded that he was ready any time.

"Okay, Cisco," Barry said to his team, "release the trap…now!"

The light on the computer blinked off, and an instant later, up came the walls, fast enough that the thief had zero time to decide what to do, especially as Len and Barry began showering the workstation in powder. With Barry's speed, he covered the area much faster, and given the choice between the two of them, Len assumed the thief would make a play for _him_.

But as the outline of a person appeared, indistinct but still visible, the figure moved straight for _Barry_.

"Ah!" Barry cried as he was tackled with a blinding flash of _light._

"Flash!" Len threw his container to the floor and pulled his gun.

"I'm fine, but I…I can't _see_ ," Barry said, blinking rapidly as the faint outline of a powder-covered person scrambled off of him toward another workstation.

Len fired using his blast setting, certain he'd at least grazed the person before they were out of sight. Bolting forward, he spared a glance at Barry, who remained on the ground, rubbing his eyes like he still couldn't see. Assured enough that Barry wasn't hurt, Len stalked slowly forward to where the thief had escaped, gun at the ready, prepared to fire and ask questions later.

A blast of light hurdled right for him as he darted around the desk to open fire and only just barely dodged the searing hot _laser_ that sliced past his shoulder. _Damn_. He really liked this trench coat, but that thought and any about returning fire fled him at the sound of a voice.

"Dad!"

 _No_. What was he doing here, Len thought as he looked in horror toward the other entrance where _Michael_ now stood. He must have headed straight for Mercury Labs avoiding their detour to Team Flash and speeding like a madman to arrive so quickly. What was he _thinking_?

The distraction allowed the thief to jump out of hiding, dusting of white powder and a swath of ice residue running on its own toward the exit—and right at Michael.

Len's instinct was to aim his gun, but if he fired at this angle, the blast could ricochet and hit his _son_. The thief had a clean shot past Michael's workstation, snatching up the unfinished cold gun along the way, and continuing forward.

Michael could have dove out of the way to let them pass, that would have been the smart play, that should have been anyone's reaction to seeing a near-invisible force barreling toward them, but instead Michael grabbed a lab coat from a hook inside the entrance and charged forward to bowl the thief over first.

They landed hard, gun caught between them, the thief's head smacking against the floor with a distinctly _feminine_ oomph, and finally the invisibility rippled away, revealing a dark-haired woman beneath Michael.

It was Linda Park.

The stun of the reveal had everyone frozen, not that Len had a clear shot with Michael holding her to the ground, but before he had the chance to react fully, something started glowing between them—her _hands_ , Len realized, pressed up against Michael's chest.

"Not the brightest idea," she said, and Michael started _screaming_.

Rolling away from her like he'd been burned, it was immediately apparent that he had been, leaving bright bleeding wounds through his shirt from her touch. He'd managed to hang onto the gun, but in his frantic movement, the firing pin he'd put in his pocket earlier fell onto the floor between them.

The thief sprang to her feet, wrapping her body in the lab coat that had holes of its own from her burning touch as she kept one glowing hand stretched toward Michael in warning to make sure he, Len, and Barry didn't make any foolish moves.

"Dr. _Light_?" Barry exclaimed as he got to his feet, finally recovered from his blindness and smart enough to blur his face in front of Michael.

So this was Linda Park's _double_. Len would have wanted an explanation if he wasn't preoccupied with his _son_ bleeding on the floor.

"Smart boy," Light said, looking at the gun in Michael's arms and then at the nearby pin, instantly making the connection. "Laid the perfect trap and made sure I wouldn't be able to use the gun once I had it. Too bad you didn't hide that somewhere better, because now I'm going to take it and you are going to give me that gun."

"Please," Michael clutched the weapon tighter, even as he shook from the pain of his wounds, "I need what you took, I—"

"So do I, honey," Light spoke over him, hand glowing brighter, "and I guarantee I need it more than you, just like I need props A and B to finish it. So hand them over or you'll have to deal with a lot more than some mild burns."

" _No_ ," Michael said through clenched teeth, which did nothing to help Len's trigger finger.

"If you touch him again…" he warned, gun whirring as he readied to fire if she even dared to _think_ it.

"Stop, everyone, wait." Barry stepped forward, hands outstretched between them. He turned to face Light, his voice distorted like his face with added resonance. "Light, please. _Linda_. I know you never meant for that man at Picture News to die. You don't want to hurt Michael either. You're not a killer. Zoom just had you scared, but he's gone now. That's over. If you want to go home, we can help you—"

"You don't get it," she said, face twisted with resolve. "This isn't only about going home."

"Then what do you want?" Len growled.

"Right now, what I want is here," she nodded at the gun and firing pin on the floor, "and none of you are going to stop me."

Whipping up both hands, she blasted beams of light toward Len and Barry in tandem, forcing them to dive to the side. A direct hit would have sliced through them like butter, and Barry thought he could talk her down?

By the time Len recovered from the floor, Light had snagged the gun from Michael's fingers, grabbed the firing pin, and took off running out of the room, but for her sake, at least she hadn't done anything else to hurt Michael, even as he clutched after her like a fool.

"Help Michael!" Barry zipped to his feet and gave chase with a blur of red and lightning.

As if Len needed to be _told_.

Rushing to his son's side, he barely got his cold gun back into its holster before he fell to his knees, gingerly reaching for the burns through shirt and peeling it away from the angry wounds, making Michael hiss from the pain.

It was bad. _Recoverable_ , but as bad as some of the burns Mick had weathered once, like two hand-sized ovals beneath Michael's ribs, bubbling and blistering where they weren't bleeding.

"What were you _thinking_ following us?" Len said as he ghosted over the burns. He couldn't do anything to treat them here.

"I had to, Dad, it's my—"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me it's your research," Len snapped, unable to look at Michael's face without scowling. "It isn't worth your life. She could have burned right through you." All Len could picture was those two ovals as gaping holes.

A second later, Barry zipped back into the room, but he didn't have Light—he had the lab coat.

"She went invisible again. Even with the powder and ice residue, I couldn't spot her."

"What about the gun?" Michael asked, single-minded and oblivious to the danger he'd put himself in.

"She must have extended the light refraction to hide it," Barry said through his vibrating voice. "It wouldn't be perfect, but enough to make a moving target harder to see. I'm sorry. I checked everywhere I could at high speed, but she's gone."

"It doesn't matter," Len said, much as he wanted to get his hands on that woman. The gun wasn't as important as getting Michael out of there.

"We need to warn the real Linda Park, in case Light goes after her again," Barry said, tossing the lab coat aside and kneeling down next to them. "But first, I'll get Michael to STAR Labs. Caitlin can treat him there."

"You can't keep looking for the thief?" Michael sat up despite the cringe that crossed his face. "What about the exits? You could watch them and—"

"Treating you is more important," Len cut him off, forcing him to lie back down with a firm but gentle push. "Enough about the research. Light will pay for this. But not tonight."

Michael looked ready to protest—at Len, at The Flash, who from his perspective he'd only just met—but then seemed to recognize he was being irrational and laid down with a grimace. "At least a couple burns are worth getting a first-class ride from The Flash," he willed a smile for the speedster. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I totally get why _sometimes_ you and Dad don't get along."

Len glared at the boy harder. It wasn't funny. None of this was _funny_.

"Nice to meet you too, Michael," Barry said, "but your dad's just worried about you. I'll come back for you, Cold, once I get him to Caitlin."

"Go," Len said, barely having the chance to nod his approval before a flicker of sparks took them away.

He thought about stalking the hallways for Light, checking the exits like Michael had said, but even in his fury, he knew better than to go after a meta that powerful without backup or a plan.

Left alone until Barry returned, Len couldn't shrug off the tremors in his hands, that feeling of deep-seated panic, just as great as it had been when Lisa had a bomb in her head. Len was used to danger, used to him and his sister being in the thick of it and having close calls, but he couldn't take this with Michael. His son was supposed to be safe and separate from this life.

Len needed to get that balance back to where it belonged, and if Michael wouldn't listen to him, then he knew what he had to do to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

XXXXX

Apparently, Michael had swiped Snart's car keys when he got his coat for him before leaving Joe's, pretending he was buttering him up to ask to meet The Flash, when he was actually giving himself a backup plan.

Ingenious and resourceful, just like his father.

Barry didn't immediately change out of the Flash suit once he'd brought Michael and Snart to the Labs. Mostly because Michael was distracting himself from the pain by plying Barry with questions—the scientific kind, not the ' _who are you under that mask'_ kind, which Barry was more than happy to answer.

"Sometimes I luck out when out of costume and _don't_ set on fire, but it's better not to take chances with friction and wind resistance. I know the right speed to lessen the probability with civilians, though it looks like your father's coat didn't escape the damage this time."

Snart's trench coat was singed at one of the edges, not that he seemed to care when he glanced down at it, though maybe that was because the top of his shoulder had been singed too—by Light. He'd been overall cold and angry ever since the fight, which unnerved Barry, but he wasn't sure what to say in mixed company while pretending he _wasn't_ Barry Allen. Of course Snart was upset after seeing Michael hurt like that.

Cisco was at work at his desk seeing if he could catch any sign of where Light might have gone, while Caitlin carefully inspected and cleaned Michael's burns, his shirt thrown in the trash since it was ruined, though they'd promised him a STAR Labs shirt to go home in.

Barry had forgotten that Michael and Caitlin hadn't met yet, but despite her serious manner when she worked, she'd taken to his charms as readily as everyone else.

Maybe Michael was asking so many questions to avoid the lecture his father looked ready to lay into, because as soon as there was a pause in the conversation, that's exactly what Snart did.

"You are _never_ putting yourself in that type of situation again, do you understand?" he said in a firm, fatherly tone.

"I'm not a kid, Dad," Michael all but rolled his eyes from his perch on the med bed, with Snart and Barry bookending him. "You can't ground me and tell me how to live my life."

"She could have _killed_ you."

"Yeah? You put your life in danger all the time. You think I like that?"

Snart smoldered like embers in response, which made Barry feel like he should _not_ be present for this conversation, but if he left, he'd be abandoning Caitlin as the lone fly on the wall. "Putting your own life in danger is not the way to challenge that. Why is this research so important to you? There will be other opportunities. You can start over. You can move onto something else."

" _No_ , I can't," Michael said, devoid of any smile and with his brow tightly knit.

"What does it _matter_?" Snart pushed. "Why the need to rush this? The research can be recreated. It'll all still be there weeks, months, _years_ from now."

"Not for everyone!" Michael erupted, causing the silence that followed to turn _stifling_ and far more awkward than before. Michael didn't elaborate, but now Snart looked even on edge.

"What does that _mean_?" he demanded.

"Snart," Caitlin said, pausing in her work, "maybe it would be better if you discussed this later. Michael's blood pressure is already high. I'm sure yours is as well. He'll heal faster and feel less pain if he stays calm."

The logic behind that sobered them, and Snart glanced away like he wouldn't argue but couldn't look at Michael if he wasn't going to listen to him. Barry felt his gut clench to see them this way, when he'd gotten used to how sweet and domestic they were around each other.

"It's second degree burns," Caitlin said as she set her tools aside, "but you're going to be fine. I can give you some stronger pain medication, since it is unfortunately going to hurt worse into the night before it starts to feel better. We'll get some ointment on these and bandage you up, then it's just a matter of taking it easy until you heal."

"Thank you, Dr. Snow," Michael said, straining to offer her a smile.

"Take it _easy_ ," Snart repeated. "Doctor's orders."

"I hear you, Dad," Michael gave another sigh. It wouldn't be long before he was fit to go home, but Barry didn't envy him the long ride there with his father.

"Still no sign of Light or where she went," Cisco peeked his head into the room, "but Joe and _Barry_ are on their way in to ask you guys about what happened."

That meant Joe had messaged Cisco he was arriving at the Labs, and Barry finally had an excuse to swap personas.

"That's my cue to leave," he said. Besides, keeping his face and voice blurred made him a little dizzy after a while. "Best if I don't linger around law enforcement, even if the city does tend to look the other way."

"I get it," Michael said. "Thanks, Flash. It was really cool meeting you."

"Just don't follow in your father's footsteps too closely, okay? Like he said, we want you to take it easy and stay safe. Cold," Barry nodded to his nemesis, but there was no answering nod or expression of the comradery Barry had started to get used to, just stony indifference.

Everything had been so much easier an hour ago in that kitchen. Barry almost wished he could turn back time, but not enough to actually do it.

With a final farewell, he flashed out of the room, leaving his suit on its mannequin and changing in the lounge before meeting up with Joe just as he was coming up the elevator. Joe stopped short long enough to shake his head at Barry's arrival, but patted his back as they headed into the Cortex.

"So," Joe said with his own fatherly tone for Michael, "way we hear it, you snuck out of the bathroom. No one realized til Wally went to check on you. My phone lit up like Christmas when they realized you'd gone rogue."

Barry tried not to snicker at the unintentional _pun_ , but a glance at Snart said he did not find anything funny right now.

"Well, to make it up to everyone, we could invite them here to bring those brownies while I'm getting patched up," Michael said with a cheeky grin, even as he hissed at the application of more ointment. "Better than pain meds. Or nice in addition to anyway."

"We might be able to swing that," Joe said. "McGee wants a report on what happened, and we need to make our official report too."

"Flash said the thief was someone called…Dr. Light?" Michael said.

"Light?" Joe repeated, while Barry pretended to be surprised. "Linda Park's double? Just what we need, more Earth-2 troublemakers…"

Barry was about to explain for Michael's benefit when the younger man spoke up first.

" _That's_ where all those metas were coming from. Like Zoom? Makes sense," he nodded. "A wormhole opened up in the sky above the city. Guess that means the multiverse theory is correct."

Sometimes Barry really loved not having to explain everything.

"I don't get it though," Cisco put in. "If she wants to go home, we wouldn't stop her. We _want_ the breachers to go back."

"She said it was about more than that," Snart said, low and monotone. "She wants absolute zero for something else, and now she has all the pieces she needs."

"How long until she has it working?" Joe asked.

"Depends on her skill level," Michael said, "but given her hacking abilities, since she has all my research and we did half the work for her, not long. Maybe a day or two."

Snart held back with what seemed like great difficulty from saying 'I told you so'.

"Then what?" Joe pressed. "Think she'll attack somewhere?"

"Hard to say," Barry said. "Light was never a serious supervillain. She's just a thief. Never hurt anybody before the incident at Picture News. She was more like… _you_ from what we were told," he said to Snart. "There has to be a reason for what she's planning. I don't think she'd hurt innocent people."

"She did _that_ to my son," Snart gestured at the burns being covered in bandages. "And came close to slicing _us_ in half. I think she's capable of anything to get what she wants. This isn't the time for one of your pep talks about _goodness_. We need to find her and stop her."

"I know. We will," Barry assured him. "She had to have left some sort of trail. But now that our Linda is back in town, we need to warn her. I'll see if Iris or Wally wants to find the best way to tell her about this. I don't want to scare her. Light was the whole reason she left town. Talk about bad timing." Especially when Linda was settling in so well with Wally and new opportunities at the paper.

"Remind me how bad this is gonna be?" Joe asked.

Barry, Cisco, and Michael exchanged concerned glances.

"If she can get that gun working," Barry said, "finish Michael's research to achieve absolute zero, she'll be able to effectively stop time in small area bursts. There's no way to know how that would present itself though, since it's all been theory up till now."

"So we won't know if it can be reversed, or if it'll be deadly or just some parlor trick, until she uses it?"

Finally, Michael looked humbled for creating the gun at all, but not enough to meet his father's eyes or offer an apology.

"Unfortunately, no," Barry said.

"I leave you idiots alone for one night!" Hartley exclaimed as he burst in through the med room door and moved to Michael's bedside.

" _Hart_. How did you—"

"Shut up, handsome, and tell me how our plan failed so spectacularly."

Michael's agitation, pained expression, and worry eased away with Hartley's arrival, which may have been the first time Barry had seen that response to Hartley… _ever_.

Snart, however, looked even more ready to lose his cool, simmering with barely contained anger, which Barry had so rarely experienced from the man it was actually kind of scary.

"I need to talk to you alone," he turned to Barry with sudden purpose. " _Now_."

"O-okay."

Barry had a feeling Snart didn't want to talk about their almost kiss or any potential date nights in their future. When Lisa was the one in danger, Snart had trusted Barry, hesitated to do anything rash because of the faith he had in him to fix things, but everything was different with Michael, personifying so many more of Snart's internalized fears.

Moving swiftly in the hopes of soothing Snart before this escalated, Barry led them into the Accelerator and pushed ahead of Snart before he had the chance to interrupt.

"Look, I know you're worried. Livid, more like, because Michael got hurt, but he's going to be fine, and we are going to find and stop Light. I told you I wouldn't let anything happen to Michael, and I meant that. But you need to calm down, think this through rationally before you run off seeking vengeance or whatever it is you want to yell at me about. A few burns is not the end of the world."

"You're right about one thing, Flash," Snart said, chilly in his delivery and accompanied by the sound of a familiar _whir_ that caused Barry to whip around, discovering the business end of the cold gun charging in his face. "Nothing is going to happen to my son."

* * *

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

"Snart!" Barry cried in surprise as he backpedaled. "What the _hell_ —"

"Convince Michael to drop this and that we'll finish the case without him."

" _What?_ " Barry couldn't use his speed he was so floored that Snart would threaten to shoot him. His hands rose automatically as he continued backing into the Accelerator, and Snart kept on coming, cold gun glowing and aimed squarely at Barry's chest. "You can't—"

"He'll listen if you're the one who turns him away," Snart said, as cold and deadly serious as he'd ever sounded before. "If necessary, as both Barry _and_ The Flash."

He wasn't bluffing. He'd been pushed too far tonight seeing Michael in harm's way. But Barry couldn't agree to this when it clearly wasn't good for either of them.

"No way," he said as he dropped his arms. "We need Michael, and he wants to help us."

Snart powered up the gun with a brighter glow.

"Go ahead!" Barry stood his ground. "Cover me from head to toe. It'll be a lot harder to recover without the suit, so good luck explaining to everyone in the other room. I'm not doing that to Michael no matter what you threaten." He dared to take a step forward. "And you shouldn't want to do that either. Or do you really want to be like the controlling asshole who raised you?"

The accusation raised Snart's hackles like an injured animal ready to snap its jaws. Barry knew it was a harsh thing to say, but that's how Snart operated—fire with fire. Or at least with ice. And just like Barry hoped, the moment before the gun would have fully and truly blasted him, Snart sobered with the truth of his words.

His arm sagged with a release in his shoulders like that night with Lewis when Lisa was finally safe. It left a stricken, agonized expression on his face that Barry hated, but he thought maybe he understood where Snart was coming from.

"You're not like him," Barry said, still cautious in his progression forward. "And I know this has to scare you—"

"It _does_ ," Snart bit out like it pained him to admit that. "And I don't scare easy."

As if Barry would ever think otherwise, but he had to smile, because Snart was too hard on himself, even if he had been about to turn Barry into a popsicle. Joe might have done the same in defense of him, Iris, or Wally. Barry's dad might have too. Hell, Barry might have done the same under the right circumstances.

"You love Michael and don't want to see him hurt," Barry said. "But this is what he wants. He's at risk, yes, I know how frustrating that can be. My entire family is at risk all the time. But you have to accept that Michael knows what he's doing, that you'll always do everything you can to protect him…and so will I. So will everyone in this building. And Mick and Lisa, for that matter."

Agony was an odd thing to see on Snart's face. _Emotion_ was an odd thing to see there, beyond smugness or a cool exterior. Displaying shame for his actions for the first time since Barry met him, Snart put the gun away with a bow of his head. Maybe it wasn't shame for being willing to do anything for his family, but for trying to undermine his son.

"He won't tell me why this is so important," Snart said, low and secretive as if more to himself than to Barry. He wasn't a _sharer_ , but Barry latched on to the rarely offered thread.

"Then maybe you need to keep pushing." He moved steadily closer now that the gun was out of the picture. "Though probably not the way you were acting just now. If Michael is as stubborn as you are, and I'm guessing he is, that's only going to make him hold back more."

"Coz you know me so well, do you?" Snart said, glancing up at Barry with familiar intensity, familiar _challenge_ that Barry was happy to rise to the occasion to accept.

"I like to think I do."

Smirking in response to Barry's banter, Snart's amusement unfortunately couldn't last, but drained away quickly. "I'm making it worse. Screwing it all up like I knew I would. How can I be the father he wants me to be and keep him safe when this city demands for me to be something else? Sooner or later he's going to realize I'm not worth his time." A cringe marred his face at realizing how much he'd admitted, yet still he added, "I just want to keep him safe before that happens."

"Leonard…" Barry used the man's given name before he could catch himself, moved by his openness.

" _This_ is what I understand." Snart drew his gun once more but only lifted it half-heartedly. "This is how I solve problems. I don't know how not to. What if I do something I can't take back? Something he won't forgive me for? Kill again. Scream at him wrong."

"Hit him?" Barry asked boldly.

"I'd _never_ —"

"But you think about it," he realized the truth of that as he said it. "You worry, even though you know you'd never do it."

Barry didn't know what it was like to grow up fearing a parent. Everyone around him thought he _should_ fear his father, believing him a killer when Barry had known otherwise, but he never once felt it, and he never felt it toward Joe either. His fathers made him feel safe. Fathers were supposed to make their children feel safe. Snart just wanted that for Michael too.

If Snart was anyone else in Barry's life, he would have hugged him. He'd nearly kissed Snart several times in the past few days, tonight it had even been on purpose, but hugging him felt too intimate somehow.

"Listen…" Barry made an instinctive reach for Snart, even if he wouldn't have been bold enough to embrace him, but when the thief slunk back just as instinctively, he hissed and reached for the shoulder Light had grazed with her powers. Barry thought only the trench coat had been damaged. "She got you, didn't she? Here. Let me see it. Take off your shirt."

"What?" Snart huffed, but Barry moved for the lab station by the wall before there could be any dissent, fairly certain there was a first aid kit underneath—more so for Cisco than for him. "Do you think me so easy, Barry?"

There was the Snart Barry was used to, always quick with a comeback and good at deflecting. Barry wondered what it would take for Snart to not flinch at a show of comfort, but it had been a rough night and he owed the man his understanding more than pressure to change all his stripes at once.

"No ulterior motives. Though I can't make that same promise once I have you undressed." He waggled an eyebrow at him.

Snart glanced away with a snort, stowing the gun again but looking…anxious. _Nervous_. "It isn't necessary."

"Your hiss says otherwise. Come on. We have supplies here I can use." Barry held up the first aid kit and gestured for Snart to sit in the adjacent chair. "It's just me. No one else has to see anything."

Blue eyes landed on him with gravity, with _weight_. This wasn't only about seeing Snart dressed down; it was about the evidence likely painting his skin that detailed his reason for flinching in the first place. Barry didn't know for certain, but he had a feeling, and his feelings about Snart tended to be right.

"Or I can tell Caitlin, and when Michael overhears, he'll probably fuss over you until—"

" _Fine_ ," Snart gave in with a glare that wasn't at all heated, causing Barry to smile for knowing how to push without pushing. Snart needed to tend to his wound, and it was easier just between them. "But don't think I'll always be so easy to order around."

Carefully, he removed himself of his trench coat, leaving the dark grey half-zipped sweater and black undershirt he'd worn at dinner and revealing the slice through his coat having gone all the way through. He sat as instructed but hesitated as he was about to further undress. When he finally giving in, another hiss sounded before he could get the shirts up halfway.

"Here. Let me help."

"I don't need—"

"I'm the hero, remember?" Barry said as he moved to Snart's side. "I'm allowed to help."

With a sigh, Snart conceded once more, allowing Barry to remove his arms from the sleeves and lift both sweater and undershirt over his head. "As the _villain_ , I'm allowed to think you're insufferable."

Barry snickered. "Yeah? Well you're being a lousy villain again this week."

"Cute."

Setting the clothing on the lab station, Barry placed the first aid kit within reach and stood at Snart's side to get a look at the cut. It wasn't deep, but it was partially cauterized, so he'd have to stitch it carefully. Luckily, he was a good sewer, and very fast.

To be honest, Snart looked more normal than Barry had expected. Sure, there were scars, but not the mural of twisted tissue he was prepared for. There was toned muscle, a little softness around Snart's middle, chest hair. It was humbling, he was so ordinary, not that he wasn't beautiful. But for Snart, he was still exposed, and that was difficult for him in front of anyone. So Barry didn't say anything, just set to work, doing the stitch job at Flash speed, though for the rest, he took his time to make sure he was gentle.

Never once did Snart say he was sorry for pulling the gun, but the way he looked at Barry with an occasional sideways glance said _something_. Something Barry was certain he liked seeing.

"I don't get why it can't be like this all the time if that's what you want too," he said, smoothing a bandage finally over the patched up cut. "For Michael. For you. Has anything about this week been boring?"

A cringe passed over Snart's features that didn't seem related to the wound. "Can't say it has."

"Does it seem so impossible then?" Barry smiled. "You can still be what you think Michael needs you to be _and_ be you. He'd never want you to not be you. I wouldn't either. But that's because I know there are two sides to you, and I like seeing this part too. I like seeing you. I like Michael. I like all of this, amazingly enough." He let his fingers trail down Snart's arm without pulling away.

"Barry…" Snart glanced down again, shifting as if to stand.

"I like you," Barry said, stupid as it sounded, before Snart could move away or deny him this. "I care about what happens to you. And you can pretend that you only care about yourself all day long, but we both know I'm not going to believe that anymore. You're a good man who had tough breaks. Who made _mistakes_. It took Michael for you to finally admit that without shielding yourself in bravado and puns all the time."

The unamused glare that snapped up made Barry laugh.

"Not that I don't enjoy the bravado and puns, because I do. I just don't think there has to be only one way, one side to anyone. Compromise, right?" He smiled a little brighter, hoping Snart would mirror him.

He didn't, but maybe it was enough that he didn't get up or lean away or immediately shut Barry down either, though he looked pained again like he wasn't sure what to say. "Between you and Michael saying that so often, I could almost believe it."

"You can." Barry moved closer, though there was hardly any space between them already. "If you want something different. You're _allowed_ to what something different."

"Even if I don't deserve it?"

Barry smiled sadly back at him, but he still smiled. "When someone wants you back, they're kind of the one who gets to decide that."

They'd never laid it all bare like this before, no masks, not even a shirt for Snart, just emotion and promises and _want_.

Snart's eyes flicked down Barry's body and back to his face, positioned only slightly lower than Barry in the tall chair while Barry stood. Even though this wasn't Saints and Sinners, there was still something reminiscent of the fake memory they'd made up in Mercury Labs about the prelude to a first kiss.

Sudden fear that they'd be interrupted swept through Barry, and he reached for the curve of Snart's neck before he could lose his nerve and moved in slow but purposeful to claim the kiss they'd been denied. Snart hummed and leaned toward him, even pressing into Barry's hand.

A kiss in the kitchen couldn't have been better. It was simple and chaste at first, only for Snart to pull away and then press deeper the second time.

Barry shuddered, following Snart's lead to open their mouths and delve more boldly. There was no need to rush this, nothing to hurry over, so they kept on like that, gently exploring each other for several minutes until Snart pulled away for air.

"Was that…just the way you imagined it, Scarlet?" he said while Barry thumbed his cheekbone.

"Yeah…" he whispered back, thinking he'd go for more until a louder chorus of voices sounded from the other room. "I think McGee and the others are here."

A different sort of sigh left Snart, but the tension had dropped from his shoulders and some of the sadness was gone too. He gestured past Barry for his clothes. "Then we best get back to them."

XXXXX

Len was out of his mind—clearly. He'd tried to threaten The Flash into manipulating his son for his own gains. Well, for Michael's _safety_ , but for his own selfish desires over Michael's. However misguided the boy might be, Len didn't want to be that kind of father.

Compromise. He could compromise.

Which was starting to look at little too much like freefalling, but Barry might be worth the crash.

He couldn't dwell on that now. There was something new waiting to interrupt them. There was always something, but Barry's hands had been warm helping him out of his clothing—and back in—which was also a thought for later.

Henry and McGee had indeed brought the brownies, apologizing that there appeared to be one missing once they'd placed them back in the pan.

"Can't imagine who snitched one." Len didn't try to hide his accusation, and added that Barry only got seconds after everyone else had had their share.

Even with Hartley, Cisco, and Caitlin included, there were still a few left over, however, and Barry batted his eyes at Len hopefully, before Len had to cave. At least the exchange meant Michael smiled at him like he usually did, tension broken.

"Flash doesn't mind having all these people in the Labs?" Michael asked.

Tension restored. Some of these _people_ did not have 'proficient liar' on their resume, while some did it so naturally, even Len would have believed Flash and Barry Allen were different people.

"Barry owns this place now, you know," Henry said. "Technically, Flash is the one playing guest and compensates for use of its resources through his service to the city."

Huh. Being in lockup for fifteen plus years had some side effects apparently. Or Henry had always been that smooth.

"While your baking skills are noteworthy, Mr. Snart," McGee said after finishing her last bite and tossing aside her napkin, "I'd like to hear about the newest break in at my company, if you please."

With Len and Michael taking point since 'The Flash' was no longer present, they once again explained the events with Dr. Light. Iris and Wally were both concerned of course, but it was Wally who called Linda, breathing relief when he got an answer on the second ring and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

The phone passed between him and his sister a few times, ending in Iris offering Linda to meet her at her place so she wouldn't be alone tonight, with Wally taking up the sofa bed for what he stammered was 'additional backup'.

Young love was adorable when Len had no stake in it. Glancing occasionally at Michael, bandaged and dressed and sitting in a chair rather than atop the med bed, giggling and leaning in toward _Hartley Rathaway_ , was a touch more difficult. Hartley was still a meta, still a part-time member of Team Flash, still…trouble. Maybe. _Probably_. And Len added enough trouble into Michael's life.

"At this rate, you can start offering frequent thievery passes," Cisco said to McGee, though the severe woman did not find the comment funny.

"Despite popular opinion, Mr. Ramon, I do not have a 'please steal my hard-earned research' sign hung above the door."

The comment drew Len back to the discussion, while several of the others had scattered about the Cortex.

"Maybe if you stopped researching nuclear and other volatile weapons, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said. He liked McGee. He appreciated Michael's position at her company, but there were ways to lessen supervillain targets being painted on your back.

"Mr. Snart," she turned to him, "how someone chooses to use my research is one thing, but I never created any of it with the intention of harm. Mercury Labs does not do weapons contracts. Michael's wing, in particular, is solely dedicated to the medical field. I assumed you knew that."

 _Medical?_

"Michael is part of our cancer research. He wanted to look into absolute zero to freeze cancerous cells, freeze time at the subatomic level so the affected cells can no longer grow or spread, without destroying the healthy tissue. It was never meant to be weaponized."

Cancer research. Michael never mentioned that before. He never told Len any of that.

"Makes sense," Barry said with a touch of melancholy. "That's how his mother died. She was battling it when I met him, that's what drove him to thermodynamics. We bonded over it a little," he smiled at his father amid the group, "our careers of choice being molded by our moms."

By his _mother_. But if it was only that, Michael would have said something, wouldn't he?

"Snart, are you okay?" Barry asked after Len had gone quiet.

"Fine." He couldn't say more, not when he wasn't sure how deep this went. He didn't care how sincere those hazel eyes looked.

"Hey, Dad?" Michael came over finally, moving slow and ginger. "The doc says I'm free to go now. Ready?"

Len nodded without saying more. They weren't truly done here, but there wasn't much to be done tonight, and he needed time with Michael to think. It didn't help his disposition that Hartley gripped Michael's hand before they left, promising they'd get together soon, leaving Barry looking after them like he wished he could do the same with Len.

Not yet. Len passed him as congenial an expression as he could manage, hoping Barry understood, and Barry seemed to, nodded back and smiled with a look of longing Len honestly wanted to reciprocate, but right now he had a few other mysteries to unravel.

He drove him and Michael home without laying into the boy like he'd initially planned, though the silent treatment made Michael tense in his seat. _Good_. It couldn't only be about Len asking for the truth; Michael had to want to come clean. It pained Len that he hadn't, and that he seemed to have no plans on doing so.

Once they were at the nearest safe house so Michael could rest under supervision, which he agreed to without complaint, Len asked point blank, one more time.

"Why is this research so important to you?"

"It just is, Dad. You wouldn't understand."

Fine. Then Len had to do this his way.

XXXXX

It was fairly easy following Michael the next morning. McGee had insisted he take the day off, but still Michael rose early, took his pain meds, had breakfast, then told Len he wanted to head home to his apartment and was a big enough boy to make it on his own.

Len knew how to tail someone better than most, certainly better than Mick, who'd trained Michael. Amazing how the right outfit and a hat could hide someone from even their nearest kin.

If it hadn't been for the lies Michael was telling, Len would have been relieved to see him head for Central City General, but the boy wasn't going about his burns. For near an hour, Len watched his son make rounds in the cancer ward, visiting patients. He wasn't there to see a doctor, but still, Len thought he knew what this might be about, and it scared him too much to wait for a timely reveal.

As soon as he had Michael alone, in an out of the way waiting room getting coffee, he stood in the doorway until Michael noticed him.

"Dad!" he nearly spilled his coffee when he did.

"Just tell me you're not sick."

"What?" Michael gaped at him. "Of course not."

A wave of relief flooded through Len. At least his first concern could be dismissed. "I know your mother died of cancer," he said, removing his hat as he stepped into the room. "You told me that much. Why didn't you tell me that this research of yours is wrapped up in the same thing?"

Letting all pretenses finally drain away, Michael slumped into a chair beside the coffee maker. "Because. I was too late to save her," he said in a small voice. "A year ago, six months ago, I could have. I kept telling her I would. I met all the people here after Mom had to be hospitalized, and it made me want to work harder for all of them. I wasn't fast enough for Mom, but I can still save some of those people.

"Some of them only have days, Dad," he said as Len took the seat beside him, "some weeks, some maybe years, but for most there's no way to know, and every second counts. I knew Mom was getting close to the end when she told me about you. She swore for so long she never would."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Len asked.

"Because I wanted to be a good thing in your life, Dad."

"You _are_."

Michael's smile twitched truer, but then fell with a sparkle of tears forming. "I'm maybe not as okay about Mom being gone as I pretend."

"And you don't think I can understand that? Because I had a mother who chose to leave and a father I wish had never been there?" The twinge and aversion of Michael's eyes said enough. "It is different, you're right. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent I wished had stuck around. But I do know what it's like to lose a _grandfather_ who was more of a parent than my father ever was."

"You do?" Michael perked up, since Len rarely shared anything personal outside of Lisa prompting him. "Can you tell me about him?"

"Yes. But first, any other secrets you have to tell me?"

"Well," Michael leaned conspiratorially closer, "if you didn't know this already…I'm gay," he whispered.

Len cracked a smile, amazed that even now Michael could joke, though it amazed him even more that his gut reaction was to pull Michael against him. For once, he decided to give into that instinct and breathed in the comfort of having Michael close.

Maybe between this remarkable boy and the remarkable superhero Len couldn't shake, his walls were destined to whittle down.

"How about, before we check in with the STAR Labs crew, I treat you to an early lunch at a place my grandfather used to take me, and I'll tell you all about him."

"I like that idea." Michael snuggled closer before pulling up. "Want to call Aunt Lisa to join us?"

"She'd be offended if we didn't."

XXXXX

Barry was relieved that afternoon to welcome Snart and Michael back to the Labs without them dancing around each other. They must have talked. Good. For all of Michael's openness, apparently father and son were both good at subterfuge.

Unfortunately, success between Snarts did not help with finding leads on Light. Someone who could make themselves invisible did not show up on CCTV, and no one had seen any sign of an extra Linda Park around. She was keeping her head down.

They tried to search for the cold signature, different as it was from Snart's, but that only worked if the gun had been fired recently, which thankfully it hadn't been.

Snart was talking with Cisco and Caitlin about ways his underworld contacts might be of use, when Barry took a moment to pull Michael aside.

"You sure the burns are okay?"

"Dr. Snow already checked them, Barry, and the pain meds work fine. Just a slight ache. It was last night that I woke up practically crying before I lurched out of bed to take more. Totally my own fault!" he said with a grin.

How could he be charming and adorable even when talking about being in pain? Or maybe that was the most dangerous trick of all. "Any other aches and pains I need to worry about?" Barry glanced not at all subtly at Snart.

Michael chuckled, looked away with a shaky sigh, and finally met Barry's gaze with clearer honesty. He told Barry what he and Snart had talked about that morning. Barry should have known Michael had altruistic reasons behind his research. He'd always been the type to put others before himself.

"You're almost a better liar than your dad," Barry said. "I didn't realize how much you were still hurting over your mother."

"It's not all the time," Michael said. "I just didn't want to bring Dad down. I never want to bring anyone down. Down is a shitty place to be. But sometimes I'm just so tired." His smile cracked with shimmer of wetness in his eyes. "And I miss her so much."

Even with the others close enough to see, Barry reached for Michael's shoulder the way he couldn't yet with Snart and tugged him close. "I know," he said as Michael sank against him. "I _know_. But you talked. That's good."

"Yeah." Michael hugged him back fiercely before he let go. "We're good. I think it's you, you know. Why he's been able to open up more. I'm glad he has you, Barry. As a _friend_ ," he added like a hurried afterthought.

"Uh huh. Sure. Maybe you're _not_ that good of a liar."

Michael grinned as if he'd never come close to crying. If only Barry could think of the right words without telling him the whole truth, Michael might have some tips about how to move on from last night's first kiss to _not_ going back to being mortal enemies when this was over.

Barry thought he had a vague idea of what to say as he opened his mouth—

Only for a shot of lightning to tear through the Cortex.

"The _hell_ was that?" Cisco whirled in his chair, while Snart and Caitlin both stood at attention, and Barry was up on his toes ready to run after…whatever that just was—though how could he with Michael right there?

Then It came again—a shock of electricity in bright _yellow_ lightning.

Eobard? No, his lightning was red.

Jesse? But why would she be on Earth-1 again?

Before Barry could think any harder about who or what the lightning might be, the bundle of sparks shot through the Cortex again and this time, finally, it skidded to a stop, revealing _Wally_ at the center.

"Dude!" Cisco shouted as he and Caitlin rushed to catch the kid before he could fall over or take off again unintentionally.

His meta gene must have activated!

"Try to keep your breathing steady to slow your heartrate," Caitlin ordered, not looking nearly as spooked as Cisco, or Wally himself for that matter.

They led him to the med bed and sat him down, though he was shaking from the surge of power flowing through him, which Barry knew intimately well. He was more than shaking, actually—every once in a while, he _vibrated_.

"What happened?" Barry asked as he, Snart, and Michael all hovered inside the med room. "What triggered this?"

"You can't be The Flash," Michael said, more to himself than as a question. "Are you another speedster?"

"I think…" Wally took a breath to calm himself like Caitlin had said. "I think I'm turning into one. We were just _kissing_. Okay, more like making out," he glanced aside, since Caitlin was all over him, checking his vitals. "And when I started shaking, I figured I was just nervous. Then I started _really_ shaking." He still was, vibrating every so often until he stared at the offending limb to calm down.

"With _Linda_?" Barry said as he realized who Wally would have been making out with, because wow, they had a little too much in common. But then maybe it was a speedster thing. A _Linda Park_ with a speedster thing, not that Barry was about to answer the accusatory stare from Snart by admitting that right now.

"She stayed at Iris's last night," Wally reminded them, "and I was on the sofa. So after Iris went to work, we were talking. I didn't have class, she'd decided to take the day off, so we…you know."

"Noted," Cisco gestured for him to get on with it. "And then…?"

"Then _this_ ," Wally held up his once again blurring fingers.

"Just stay calm, okay?" Barry said, placing a hand on Wally's knee, hoping to temper his erratic connection to the Speed Force without making it too obvious. "This is normal. Elevated heartrate can cause those reactions even when you do have control over your powers."

"How do you know that?" Michael asked.

"Oh, uhh…Cisco and Caitlin have all sorts of weird meta stories," Barry shrugged. "You tend to pick up on things."

"So after you started vibrating," Cisco returned to Wally, "you left Linda alone and ran here?"

"I didn't mean to!" Wally defended. "I couldn't stop myself. I kept _moving_. I went right through the door! I was just trying to give myself a direction to go, but before I could get control of my speed, I'd already made it all the way here. You have to call Linda so she knows what happened," he beseeched Barry.

She was going to get such a complex over this. "Of course I will," Barry said, pulling away from Wally to fumble for his phone.

"But you said you weren't around when the Particle Accelerator exploded," Michael said, already analyzing the science side of this. "When were you exposed to dark matter?"

"Long story," Wally admitted, "but it involved Zoom, The Flash, and my ex-girlfriend."

"Seriously?"

" _Wally?_ " Iris burst into the Cortex before Barry could finish dialing Linda. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

Another shiver of vibrations wracked through Wally and sparks danced across his shoulders in answer.

"His meta genes triggered," Caitlin said, looking satisfied with the vitals she'd taken despite the errant surges of power. "I'll need a blood sample to be sure, but it looks like he's connected to the Speed Force just like The Flash."

Wally half-laughed before taking several more breaths while Iris rushed through the others to reach him. "I'd be excited if it didn't feel like my heart was going to beat out of my chest."

"While this definitely needs to be discussed," Iris said, turning to address everyone, and taking note of Michael in their midst, which meant she couldn't be wholly transparent, "it's not our main problem."

"What do you mean?" Barry asked.

"The reason I came here instead of stopping at home first was because I was worried I'd need to ask _The Flash_ to go by my apartment."

"What? What for?"

Pulling out her phone, she turned it toward them. "Because I got a message from Linda."

"Oh god," Wally sparked with a few fresh bursts of yellow, "is she freaking out because I ran off? I didn't _mean_ to."

"No, Wally," Iris said solemnly, staring at her phone with a pained expression that also seemed relieved that he was here instead of back at her apartment, "I got a message from the _real_ Linda, who's thinking of visiting during her vacation next week and who has not at any point considered moving back to Central."

* * *

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

Everything with speedsters moved so quickly. Michael shouldn't have been surprised. But now Wally was one too, and everything they thought they knew about the situation was crumbling.

Barry went to call The Flash to stop by Iris's apartment, but of course Light was no longer there. She was gone and could strike again any moment. Worse was that it delayed Michael's research even further. He had several people from the cancer ward at CC General in line for medical trials, and oh, how he wanted to save them, any of them, _all_ of them, even though it would always sting that he hadn't been in time to save his mother.

Poor Wally too, he thought. He was a meta now, which Michael could tell his new friend wanted to be excited about, but now the girl he'd been crushing on was secretly a supervillain. At least with Barry and Len, Barry had known about Len's past. Wally had to be crushed, though he'd closed up so much after the reveal that Linda wasn't _Linda_ that it was hard to tell what he was feeling.

They didn't even know what Light wanted the research for. Maybe The Flash was right about her not being all bad. Barry and Len were making things work— _something_ was happening between them anyway. So why not Wally and Light?

Depending on if she wanted to destroy the world, of course.

But that couldn't be it. She had Michael's research. She knew everything good it could be used for. She had to want it for something else.

They'd called in Hartley again for an extra mind. Michael hardly knew him yet, but what he had gotten to know about Hartley Rathaway, he liked very much. He had this front he put up that wasn't the real him, but it slipped every so often, especially when he and Michael were alone. He said he hadn't been comfortable in his own skin until recently because wearing a shield or two had been necessary with his parents. The Flash had helped him shed that need. All of Team Flash had helped.

"Though clearly these idiots can't do anything without me," he said, doodling equations on a whiteboard.

They were in the corner of the Cortex trying to detail every possible way Light might use the new cold gun while the others attempted to track where she'd gone, giving Wally a moment to breathe before they grilled him with further questions.

"Maybe if you were more than part-time, you could change that," Michael said.

"Trying to get me a job and make me a hero, huh?"

"Just offering nudges." Michael took the marker from Hartley and fixed an equation he'd rushed through, to which the other man stared in surprise, impressed.

The way the gun had been built, a dark matter pulse was no longer viable, which was good, or Light might have been able to kill other meta humans by unravelling their DNA with a single shot.

"I'd never tell someone who they should be if they really want to be something else," Michael continued, handing the marker back to Hartley.

"If only my parents were that open-minded."

"I thought you and your folks had a good relationship now."

"They're over the fact that their imperfect son has a record, but my personal life is still a sore spot."

"Well, maybe they just—"

"They tried to set me up with a woman," Hartley turned to Michael with a raised eyebrow, "this girl I knew in prep school. Well, joke's on them, she's a lesbian, and we're combining forces to beard our parents into obscurity until they only realize they're never getting grandchildren after our respective gay weddings."

Michael erupted with laughter, though he could tell Hartley was deflecting how difficult this was for him. "What, no chance at adoption?"

Hartley snorted. "Never say never."

He really was brilliant—and funny and charming. He just needed to drop his guard a bit more. Michael liked to think he was getting good at breaking through barriers like that.

"Want to grab a drink later to celebrate your future engagement?"

Returning to the white-board, Hartley chuckled. "Once the current crisis is averted, absolutely. But that's the problem with playing hero, you know. It never ends."

"Isn't that why we _need_ heroes?"

Another pause, followed by a hooded but sweeter smile thrown Michael's way. "Well aren't you smart."

This time, Michael picked up his own marker to continue through ideas before he forgot them. "They'll come around, your folks, and if they don't, then they don't deserve you. Good parents accept you as you are."

"I could only dream to have a father like Snart. You could get away with _murder_."

"He's actually pretty strict about me not doing things like that," Michael said. "Because he cares, not because he wants to control me. Sometimes it's just tough for parents to see where the line is between 'for your own good' and 'for _my_ own good'. He's getting there."

"Speaking of 'for your own good' father figures." Hartley capped his marker as Detective West arrived with a booming voice that drew all the attention in the room, especially when he rushed Wally with that same look of concern that Michael's dad wore last night.

Wally's reprieve had ended. They had no other leads, and with Joe's arrival, the group gathered in the med room once more to get as much information out of him as they could.

He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Is there anything you talked about that might give us a lead as to what she's planning?" Joe asked.

"Now that I know she's been lying this whole time," Wally sat with his legs dangling off the med bed, "everything she said seems like supervillain monologues."

"I get it," Barry said, ever the supportive brother, "and I am so sorry this happened, Wally. She fooled me too. She got me to tell her everything she needed about that test run at Mercury Labs, and the whole time I thought she was helping us."

"She was so seamless about it, ya know. Asked if I spent much time helping Team Flash, and I admitted I only helped a little. I realize now she was getting an idea of who's here when, what entrances we use, where the portal is, because it came up when I told her about Jesse."

"You didn't know." Iris squeezed his shoulder. "But what that does tell us is she likely doesn't plan to use her new gun on Earth-1."

"She's heading home," Barry agreed.

"Which means as soon as she has the gun operational," Len said, "she's coming right for us."

"Just to play Devil's advocate." Hartley raised a hand like waiting to be called on in class. "What's wrong with letting her get to the portal and being Earth-2's problem?"

"We have friends there," Barry said with a stern expression. "And this is our responsibility."

"Wally," Joe tried again, "do you have any idea what she wants?"

The newly awakened speedster looked so small hunched on the bed despite his lanky six-foot height. "I think most of the things she told me were true. At least it _felt_ true. She talked about how sometimes she wishes there weren't any meta humans, because they cause so much suffering when they decide to hurt others, and you can never tell who's going to be like The Flash and who might be another monster like Zoom."

"What noble sentiment coming from someone willing to kill an innocent man," Len huffed.

"She didn't try to kill me, Dad," Michael said. "It's just a couple burns."

"Sympathizing with supervillains—"

"Is exactly why you and Hartley are here."

He had them there, and while Hartley hid a smirk by glancing away, Len didn't try to deny his frustration that Michael was right.

He was though, and he'd never let anything convince him otherwise. They were here for a reason.

"Fine," Len said, taking in their large crew and finally resting his gaze on Joe, who was most likely to be skeptical of his suggestions, "then we might as well include the whole family. I'm calling in the Rogues."

XXXXX

This was what Len had been hoping to avoid—Michael getting caught up in an all-out Flash and Rogues team-up against a dangerous adversary. With Lisa and Mick added to the chaos, Michael refused to even consider leaving this to the professionals.

"I _am_ a professional, Dad. Maybe not as a vigilante or facing meta humans, but I know the research better than anyone. I need to be here."

His logic beat Len every time, but if anything ever happened to him…

It would be all Len's fault for letting it get this far.

He was all in. He didn't want to push Michael or Barry or any of this away. He just wished some of it could be easier.

At least West had failed just as spectacularly with Wally. The kid was a fresh-faced _Flash_ , after all, just untrained, and this was personal for him. He didn't want to leave either. If Len had still seen this group as his enemies, he'd worry about two speedsters for the price of one in his future. But none of them were enemies anymore.

Before West left, he even said, "Keep an eye on 'em, huh?" without any of the judgment Len once would have expected.

Lisa and Mick arrived just as Iris and West headed out, off to see if they could gather intel on where Light was or when she might attack. The rest of them prepared for an assault.

Cisco had placed dark matter censors everywhere in case Light tried to sneak in invisible. They considered turning out the lights for night vision, but opted for heat censors instead. Len and Mick's goggles already had that built in. Cisco passed around additional goggles for himself, Lisa, and Michael, who'd insisted. There were only three, not that it mattered if Barry had some. He had his own with The Flash suit.

"Where is The Flash anyway?" Michael asked.

"He'll be here when we need him," Barry said. "He's watching the perimeter."

The one lie they had left. Len clung to it stubbornly, as if that remaining deception could keep Michael safe all on its own.

They were a well-oiled group, all said and done, West out playing detective while his daughter investigated as reporter. Michael, Hartley, and Wally worked out equations to counter what Light might do, though coming up with a true anti-cold gun would take time. The rest had separated into predictable pairs.

"Just keep them on," Cisco told Lisa as she fit her goggles into place. "See how all of us are showing up red like you'd expect? If anyone we're not expecting shows up, they'll look blue."

"Then it's shoot first, ask questions never?" Lisa grinned at him, the goggles simple like Len's but with a glowing light on top to indicate heat vision.

"Sounds good to me," Mick gruffed out, following Caitlin toward the elevator, carrying extra sensors to setup around the portal downstairs.

"Contrary to your opinion, Mr. Rory," Caitlin said primly, "the answer is not always to burn something until it dies."

"Says who?"

"Don't let him fool you, Caitlin," Michael called from the far side of the Cortex. "Uncle Mick's a softie deep down. Good cook, good at fixing things, and loves classic horror and sci-fi novels. He's been reading through Bradbury lately."

" _Hey_." Mick barked at Michael for outing his laurels. "Keep that smart mouth shut, will ya? Like to hear yourself talk just like your old man."

Len shot his friend a glare for the remark, but Mick was already trapped since his arms were loaded down and he still had to follow Caitlin down several floors.

"Bradbury? You know," she said, glancing back at him on her heels, "I prefer his short stories. Do you have a favorite?"

Michael was clearly a menace, and Len loved him for it, even if it left him and Barry to twiddle their thumbs, watching surveillance footage from around the Labs.

"I'm really sorry about all this," Barry said when even that job was taken from them by Cisco and Lisa cozying close at the terminal.

"Not your fault," Len said.

"I know, but I'm sorry anyway. I know you wanted to keep Michael safe from all this."

Len glanced across the room at his son, who was thriving with Hartley and Wally. "Not gonna be my choice, apparently."

"I'm glad you talked things out," Barry said softly between them. "For the record, I didn't know he was working in cancer research either, though I should have guessed."

"He's still getting to know me. I don't make it easy for anyone to…open up around me."

"You know what could help with that?" Barry inched closer. "Opening up more yourself."

"Oh? And how _open_ would you like me to be?"

Barry trailed his eyes down Len's body like he was imagining several options. "So I have these friends in Star City."

"Yes?" Len startled at the subject change.

"They have a lot of break-ins at Palmer Tech too and—"

"No," Len cut him off out of habit.

"Most situations won't be like this! It'll be fun like the night of the test run. Then you can relax at home with your son. With Lisa and Mick. With whoever else might be around." A familiar blush filled his cheeks.

Not the casual type. Len wasn't surprised to see that hold true. If they did this, Barry would expect more than some one-night stand. He'd want promises, a future. "Except I don't have a home," Len said, testing the waters for Barry's reaction as well as his own. "Not a stable one."

"Oh." Barry drew back like he was embarrassed not to have realized that.

"You've been checking out apartments to get out of West's house, right?"

"Sure. I figure it's time I got out on my own."

"Any pointers for someone looking for rent control?"

Brightening again, Barry was as quick to smile as he was to believe in someone—to believe in Len. "Maybe I could help you look sometime. I just got a line on a place myself, not that I've had much time to think about it."

No one seemed to be paying them any attention, so Len inched closer still. "All this stability might build up like a powder keg. We wouldn't want that. You might need to find other ways to keep me… _cool_."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Remember what I wrote on that napkin all those months ago?"

Barry choked on a laugh. "How could I forget?"

"You turned me down."

"You asked for 'The Flash for one night, no questions asked.' Which I thought you meant for a heist. You saying it was a seedier request?"

"Now, Barry, that would have been rather base of me. I'm offended you'd think that. But if you'd chosen to interpret it that way," Len tipped his head closer, "I could have been persuaded."

Barry laughed louder but still didn't draw any attention from the others. It would be easy to steal another kiss. "Does that mean one night with The Flash would buy me a night keeping Captain Cold off the streets, then we can see where things go from there?"

"Start building up a tab?" Len teased.

"Maybe get creative for how those points rack up?"

"I can get pretty creative, Scarlet."

"I'd love to hear about it. Maybe you can pass me another napkin sometime with the right request, and I'll say yes."

 _God_ , he made it seem so easy, but it wasn't, even if the banter was. Len would let Barry down someday, just like he'd let down Michael, like he let everyone down. Someday, he would. And it made him wonder if it was worth the risk when he was starting to get attached to what he might lose.

"Barry…"

The lights went out, making Len's already twisted stomach lurch.

"Uhh…guys?" Wally called through the blackness.

"Why did we decide against night vision again?" Lisa asked.

"Calm down," Cisco said. "All of these goggles have night vision too. Just reach up and click the button on the right side one more notch."

Pulling his own goggles into place and following direction, fuzzy green illuminated in front of Len—his goggles had been made by Cisco too, after all—revealing everyone like found footage. Except Barry, who'd disappeared, only to zip into view with a lick of lightning that made everyone groan from the brightness.

"Sorry," he said in his resonating Flash voice. "Everyone okay?"

"We can see ourselves, but what about Light?" Lisa asked.

" _Some_ of us can see ourselves," Hartley reminded them. "Some are actually in the dark right now."

"Caitlin and Mick are downstairs," Barry said in his normal voice, hiding behind Len in line with Michael to throw off that he wasn't the same person.

"Mick has his goggles and his gun," Len said.

"Caitlin will know how to turn on his night vision," Cisco assured them. "Let me see what's going on." His green-lit form slumped into his roller chair at the main terminal, with Lisa poised over his shoulder. "No, no, no. I have protocols for this! How is she hacking me this fast?"

"Because she's a base level technopath, genius," Hartley said, staying put by the whiteboard so as not to stumble in the dark. "She can rewire anything you think up before you finish coding it."

A beeping noise began and trilled for several seconds to indicate one of Cisco's dark matter sensors had gone off.

"That's the main entrance," Cisco said.

A few moments later, another beep sounded.

"And that's the stairwell. She hacked the building schematics. She knows exactly where the portal is and is heading down. But it'll take her time to get there from where she's starting."

"Just a point of clarification," Lisa spoke up once more, "Mick _is_ a softie under the right circumstances. He also _will_ set that woman on fire."

There wasn't time to debate what to do next. "Those of you without goggles stay with Cisco to get the lights working," Len ordered. "Michael—"

"Don't tell me to stay behind," Michael said.

Déjà vu, but this time Len didn't argue. "Did you get anything finished that we can use against her?"

"Sort of." Michael picked up what looked like a bullhorn from the table beside him. "It's a pulse that should disable her gun temporarily."

" _Should?_ "

"It'll buy us time, Dad. I got this."

Len honestly didn't know how West could stand watching Barry run headfirst into the line of fire every night. "Fine. Lisa, Flash, with us."

It took a bit of clever movement on Barry's part to not make it obvious that The Flash had replaced Barry, but Michael was too focused to notice.

"I've got Cisco on comms," Barry said once they were on their way. Good. At least the entire power grid hadn't been compromised.

"Tell him to warn us before the lights come back on so we're not blinded."

"Got it."

For now, they traveled in florescent green.

A few moments moving in silence, Barry whispered, "Cisco says another censor went off. She's getting close to the portal, but we'll still beat her coming from this side of the building."

"Don't zip ahead, Flash," Len said. "Better if we take this slow and stay together. Numbers might be our only advantage. And Michael's pulse."

STAR Labs was a large building, but it didn't take long to descend the stairs nearest them and reach the floor they needed. Once they came around the corner that led the last league to the portal, two green blobs manifested with a bright center point Len knew to be Mick's gun.

"Who's there?" Mick barked.

"Relax, partner, it's the cavalry. You both alright?"

"Is it Light?" Caitlin asked, holding Mick's arm for stability since she'd been left in the dark.

"It is, and she's headed this way," Barry said, resonating voice informing them that he was to be called Flash instead of Barry, not that Mick would likely call him either.

"Give us intel then, Red," Mick said, relaxing as they approached.

Len didn't like them dawdling here, even though someone needed to guard the portal room. There were too many winding ways that led to this spot, three possible directions Light could come from.

"Cisco thinks, judging by the sensors she's set off so far, that she's most likely to come from there." Barry indicated the center hallway.

"Doctor Snow, if you please?" Len reached out his hand to her, waiting for her to grope forward before he grabbed it and passed her to Michael. "Michael will keep an eye on you. The both of you stay back while we take point. Mick, keep at the door. Lisa, you take the far right, Flash center, I'll hold back to guard where we came from and keep these two behind me. Michael, if you get a shot with that pulse, take it, but don't be a hero."

"If you expect me to follow that advice, Dad, you're setting a terrible example."

Len could feel Barry and Lisa's grins, even if their faces weren't clear in black and green, which he promptly ignored. "Just be smart. That is the example I expect you to follow."

As a group, they got into position and waited. Every so often, Barry would whisper something from Cisco, an indication of where Light was traveling, but the usual adrenaline waiting for a fight didn't spike for Len like it might have if it was just him and his team against an enemy. Even if it was just him and Barry. Michael at Len's back made him prickly with nerves, remembering the other night, especially when a voice cried out from the center hall.

"Don't make me shoot you, Flash!"

Barry squared off into a ready stance. "I can see just fine, Light. As soon as you come around the corner, I promise you I'm faster."

That meant he couldn't see her yet, which left Len unsure of who had the upper hand.

"You sure you're faster than this gun?" she called. "All I want is safe passage out of here."

"Not happening. If you leave the gun, maybe we'll consider it."

"I can't do that."

Len couldn't see around the corner from his position, but when the next thing Barry yelled was "Down!" before he dropped to the floor, he envisioned Light firing without looking or revealing herself as a blast of… _of_ …

Len couldn't explain it through the night vision, but it didn't look like ice erupting out of the mouth of the hallway. It wasn't even bright, more like glittering ripples of smoke that exploded like a burst of magic against the portal room door—and _Mick_.

"Mick!" Len cried.

The larger man froze, but not as if he couldn't move or like time had stopped, but from the shock of being struck by something unknown. Len waited for a delayed reaction, for a cry, a shudder, for Mick to topple to the floor, but he merely shook himself, seemingly fine.

Just as Light tackled Barry like she had at Mercury Labs!

Her hands burst with light at his goggles and comms, causing him to howl from the shock. She'd blinded him again and cut him off from the Cortex. At least she wasn't naked this time but back to the leather outfit Len remembered from the news.

Strafing to the right to blast her without ricocheting onto Lisa further down the hall, Len fired before Light could roll away, but she flattened herself on top of Barry so the ice missed her entirely, then jumped up to rush Mick before he could blast her next. Ducking and weaving, she avoided Mick's attempts to swat at her, finally firing a burst of light at his goggles too.

Right as Len and Lisa squared off to take her out between them, the lights in the Labs blared to life with the worst timing, blinding everyone who'd still been using night vision.

Len squinted in frustration as he tore his goggles from his eyes, unable to focus, knowing that Lisa and Michael were experiencing the same, while Mick, Barry, and Caitlin would be blinking past the startling change from black to brightness. None of them could see clearly enough to attack, but it certainly appeared as if a blob was pushing Mick aside to rush past him into the portal room.

A dance of yellow lights came next, not from Barry but from past Len's shoulder as _Wally West_ zipped in like he'd been waiting for the baton to be passed.

"Linda, stop!" he materialized out of his lightning just as Len's vision began to clear, holding her against the wall beside the portal room door. Even through her visor, she finally looked as startled as the rest of them. "Whatever's going on, just tell us. We can help you. I promise. Just _talk_ to me. I know you're not really like this."

As Barry scrambled to his feet, goggles tossed aside like the others, Lisa and Mick came forward aiming their guns despite Wally blocking any clear shot. Len felt Michael and Caitlin behind him still and moved subtly enough to allow Michael a shot with his pulse, just in case.

Light's hand remained tight on her cold gun, unwilling to loosen her hold, but her expression looked momentarily disrupted from its stony mask. "You won't understand. You don't know what it was like having Zoom controlling our city all those months. You only got a taste of him."

"But it's okay now. Zoom's gone. We can figure this out together, whatever it is you think you need to do. Please." He released his hold on her shoulders to slide down to her wrists in gentle comfort. "I didn't know I was a meta until this morning. I didn't mean to run out like that, it just happened. Do you hate me for being like this now? Do you hate _yourself_?"

Distracting Light to give them the chance to regroup was good, but Wally's tactic was also dangerous since he'd basically placed himself as an offering to the enemy and was giving her all the power to choose how this went.

Light took a breath, calmer now but summoning a resigned expression. "I hate what metas can be, and you can't control that. _This_ can." She lifted the gun, causing Mick and Lisa to flinch forward, though Len waved them back. This was their chance to keep things from escalating. "I can even the playing field so no one can become another Zoom again, not in my world."

"If that's what you're scared of then stay here," Wally said, as ardently as Barry had ever sounded appealing to Len. "You can just stay here. Our villains even join our side sometimes, just _look_ ," he gestured back at Len, which Len couldn't exactly deny.

"They're not meta humans," Light said. "They're not as dangerous."

"Wanna bet," Mick growled with a warning pop of fire from his gun.

Light ignored him. "You really think nothing could ever turn The Flash into something like Zoom? Nothing at all just because he acts good now? Are you _really_ sure?" she pushed before he could answer. "Are you sure of what _you're_ capable of? Because I never expected what I was capable of until I had no other choice."

"You think I could be like Zoom?" Wally gave her wrists another comforting squeeze.

"No," she said, almost sympathetic but also cold—Len knew that resolve well. "But if you ever were, I'd rather you didn't have the power to take over an entire city. I like you, Wally." She shifted her free hand to take hold of his. "That wasn't a lie. I wish things could be different. I wish there was a you in my world…but this is something I have to do."

"Ah!" Wally cried as he lurched away from her, palm bright red from the burn she'd just given him, and before anyone could react, she yanked him back toward her, spun him around, and had the gun at his temple.

"Linda…" Barry tried, but she charged the gun threateningly, moving with Wally toward the portal room entrance.

Mick took two powerful strides closer, gun aimed at her head. "That toy 'a yers didn't do shit to me."

"Mick, wait!" Michael warned. "She must have tailored the output to affect metas! We don't know what it might do to Wally."

With a snarl, Mick backed off, but only because Michael was the one who'd asked.

"Just let me go," Light said, backing up further, "and you'll never see me again."

"We can't," Barry approached her cautiously with an outstretched hand. "We know other metas in your world. We can't just let you go on some revenge quest hurting others thinking you're helping. Even you don't know what that gun might do."

"I know what it should do," she said— _should_ , a word Len hated, "and it's worth the risk."

Thrusting Wally into Barry's arms to unbalance him, she bolted into the room at a mad dash. Len gave chase first, confident he couldn't be hurt if the gun was meant for metas. She still had to turn the portal on, after all, and he tracked her movements, firing a blast that she only just dodged as she dove for the control panel.

"Linda!" Wally called, zipping forward at lightning speed before Len could yell at him to stop—just in time for Light to pop up and _fire_.

This time the arcs of glittering smoke impacted their target with a fizzle that doused the sparks around Wally's body like snuffing out a campfire. He stuttered to a dead stop, staring at himself, unable to understand how his newly minted powers had been stripped.

That was it. She wasn't trying to hurt metas; she wanted to stop their cells _cold_ and make them human.

Before she could think to use the gun again, distortions like soundwaves struck her like a force push, causing the cold gun to fizzle out just like Wally's lightning. Michael's bullhorn worked as he beat even Barry into the room to lend them aid.

Growling in frustration, Light whirled toward the control panel, and the portal up on its platform roared to life. Len aimed another blast of ice at her turned back, but when he fired, she spun around to lift a glowing palm that melted it mid-air to splash to the ground.

Her own gun had already stopped sparking, temporary like Michael had said. Still, it was her light powers she charged next.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," she said to _Michael_ , who she perceived as her greatest threat, "but I can't let you interfere anymore."

Time slowed as she shot out her powers, and the same way Len imagined the rest of the world looked to Barry, he saw his chance to go to Michael's aid before it was too late. It didn't matter if Light was aiming for the bullhorn or the boy himself, Len couldn't risk his _son_ , so he dove in to take the searing laser shot in his stead.

Only when time sped up again did Len realize he could never be as fast as _Barry_.

Len almost tossed his gun aside in his haste to grab Barry's shoulders when the speedster slumped, right there in front of him, having taken the shot for him.

"I-I'll heal," he huffed, and then lurched out of Len's grasp to zip forward and capture Light before she could escape.

But he was hurt from the wound Len couldn't even see, and he didn't reach her fast enough before she lifted her gun and fired to stop him in his tracks as succinctly as she depowered Wally.

Only her cringe betrayed that this wasn't the outcome she wanted, not that Len cared when Barry sank to his knees, because she didn't hesitate to race the rest of the way to the portal and dive headlong into the blue.

Bolting forward to drop beside Barry, Len eased him onto his back where at last he saw the wound, a cauterized bullet-sized hole through the center of Barry's chest that was bleeding faster and faster without his healing factor to counter it.

"I-I-I…"

"Shh," Len shushed him, tearing the mast from his face to see him, to let him _breathe_ , but all that mattered was that he wasn't healing, which was far more important than Michael's distraught voice.

" _Barry?_ "

* * *

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

Len focused on trying to stop the bleeding, since Barry's body wasn't doing enough of that itself. He could hear Cisco chattering over Barry's earpiece, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Then Caitlin dropped down beside him and tapped the right lightning bolt of Barry's removed cowl.

"Cisco, bring my emergency kit to the portal room _now_ ," she ordered, tossing the lightning bolt aside afterward, regardless of how Cisco might have responded, and focusing on Len. "Keep applying pressure. We need to keep him from going into shock."

It wasn't that simple, Len knew. If this was a bullet wound, which it might as well have been, the damage and internal bleeding…

"Barry, I need you to stay focused," Caitlin said, taking hold of his face and forcing him to look at her, his eyes growing glassier by the minute.

Lisa and Mick stood back to give them room, looking on with equal expressions of veiled concern, while Wally looked like he was in his own kind of shock, torn between wanting to go after Light—Len could see his desire to do so, no matter how foolish—staying to watch over Barry, and being shaken by the loss of powers he'd only just received.

But it was Michael who knelt down at Len's other side, smiled in support like the wonderful boy he was, no anger or accusation there for this last secret they'd kept from him, and gripped Barry's hand.

"You are such an awful liar, Barry, I should have known you were The Flash. It all seems really obvious now. So is all that tension between you and Dad only because you _haven't_ dated yet?"

Barry laughed, quickly sputtering into a pained cough. "I'm s-sorry, Michael."

"Superhero identities are definitely their own category," Michael said. "Kinda hard to be mad."

The beam of light had sliced through the front of the Flash suit but it hadn't gone all the way through. Len prayed that was a good thing considering Barry had cauterized wounds in the worst possible places, but that still wasn't enough to stop the bleeding.

"How about," Michael continued, "you tell me when you actually started crushing on my dad while I reconfigure his cold gun to give you your powers back."

"What?" Len couldn't prevent Michael from following through on that because his hands were a little busy pressing down on Barry's wound, covering them in blood that wasn't slowing nearly enough. He'd dropped his cold gun when he sunk to his knees, and Michael snatched it up now in place of his bullhorn to take it apart.

"Relax, Dad, I can put it back together the right way later." Keeping his eyes on his work, Michael moved as swiftly as if he'd taken the gun apart a dozen times before. "Right now, _Barry_ ," he spoke louder to get Barry's eyes on him, "you need to tell me about you and Dad, got it?"

Barry nodded, still present enough to understand that Michael was trying to keep him conscious and focused while he worked. "I-I guess it was, uhh…in the woods? I wanted to be mad at him." His eyes fluttered as they shifted to look up at Len. "He was a c-criminal, did bad things, kidnapped Caitlin and Cisco…"

"He..." Michael started for a second but kept on with his dismantling.

"…but I could t-tell he was different from the others. There was always an out for innocent people. I knew he could be better. And he was s-so smooth a-a-and good looking and f-fun. He'd flirt and, even though he was the bad guy, it was easy to flirt back. The woods was where I first showed him my face. We made a deal that he w-w-wouldn't hurt people anymore or tell anyone who I was, and I-I wouldn't throw him in jail. After that it was a d-d-downward spiral."

Len felt the eyes on the two of them that Barry was blissfully ignoring, not that it mattered anymore. "If I'd known all it would take was kidnapping your friends, I would have opened with that."

Barry laughed again but ended on a cringe. Len imagined Caitlin giving him a dirty look for what he'd said, but then Barry's eyes started to flutter.

"Hey." He pushed harder on the wound. "Stay with me. We haven't even managed a real date yet."

"Are y-you asking me out, Snart?"

"Only if you finally stop calling me 'Snart'."

A tired smile filled Barry's face but his head lulled as he started to fade out.

" _Barry_."

"I got it!" Michael announced, drawing Len's attention to the gun that had somehow already been put back together with parts from the bullhorn. He pointed it at Barry.

"Wait, are you sure—"

"Dad," Michael looked at him with earnest pleading, "trust me."

Len nodded, waiting until the exact second Michael pulled the trigger before he yanked his hands out of the way. A stream of ice wasn't the output for once, but something closer to the sparkling smoke from Light's gun. Barry's chest rose in a deep breath on impact, and Len immediately returned his hands to the wound, even though he could tell the bleeding started to slow almost instantly.

"Must be a family thing to be good in a crisis," Lisa called down at them.

This time, Michael was the one who laughed, but Len, close beside him, saw the shimmer of wetness in his son's eyes to prove how worried he'd been. "After building the other gun, this was easy," he said, as if he hadn't just saved someone's life.

Heroes, the lot of them.

Slowly, Barry came back to them, but he did come back, gasping and blinking past the pain as he started to rapid-fire heal the way he was used to. Eventually, Len was able to pull his hands away, though Barry reached for them and held on tight for purchase, slick as they were with blood.

"I still need to check you over, Barry," Caitlin said. "Don't strain yourself while you heal."

"Everything okay?" Cisco asked as he entered, having finally made it downstairs. "Oh shit. _Shit_. What—"

"Everything's fine," Caitlin interrupted before he could panic, "but give me the kit so I can make sure it stays that way." She gestured pointedly with one hand, and Cisco darted forward to comply, handing over an advanced looking med kit, designed specifically for The Flash, Len assumed.

Hartley was right behind Cisco, accounting for all of them now, gathered in the portal room with nothing to show for their efforts against Light but a wounded speedster.

"What happened?" Hartley asked.

"She hacked the gun to target meta cells instead of cancerous ones," Michael said. "She can basically depower meta humans with a single blast."

"That is _awesome_ ," Cisco said before recognizing the extent of how bad this could be as everyone stared at him. "Not awesome. Sorry. Oh god, is that what happened to _you_?" he realized with Barry.

"I'm fine," Barry said, pushing up into a sitting position despite Caitlin's attempts to check him over. "We have to follow Light to Earth-2 or we'll lose our window. Who knows how much damage she can cause now that she's home."

"Okay, but Devil's Advocate again," Hartley raised a hand like earlier, "isn't Earth-2 swarming with evil metas who swore allegiance to Zoom? Why not _let_ her depower them?"

As much as Len enjoyed the excitement caused by meta humans, they were the leading cause of casualties in town, and the numbers were worse on Earth-2 from what he'd heard.

"What about Jesse?" Barry sat up further until Caitlin finally pushed him back down. He allowed it but continued at his friends, "What if Jay visits? What about good metas finally coming out of the woodwork because Zoom's gone, who actually want to help? She's taking that away from them. I'm not saying a gun like that wouldn't be handy to stop bad guys, but she doesn't want to use it to save people, she wants to be judge and jury before metas even get a chance to choose for themselves."

Len should have expected this response after all the speeches he'd heard from Barry since they met, but it always amazed him that someone like him existed. "That nobility does wear thin on occasion, you know."

"I'm _healing_ ," Barry said, and Caitlin couldn't deny that, much as she pursed her lips. "I'll be fine. We need to go now and see if Harry saw anything."

"Harry?" Michael asked.

"I'll explain once we get there."

" _We_?" Len protested.

"We might need Michael, since he knows the most about the research."

Len wanted so desperately to refute that.

"Look how quickly he saved _me_ ," Barry said.

"I'm coming too," Wally announced.

"Wally—" Barry tried.

"Shoot me with the gun. Give me back my powers so I can help."

Michael looked at the gun, then at Barry for confirmation.

"Are you sure?" Barry asked, finally allowed by the good doctor to sit up and spin to face Wally. "This is your chance to be human again, Wally."

"I know what I want," Wally said. "I want to be able to do more, and I've finally been given that chance. And I want to save Linda."

Damn these Wests and Allens and their unending belief in people. "Listen, kid—"

"I'm not giving up on her. Barry never gave up on _you_ ," Wally threw back at him.

Even Mick snorted at that.

"We're going," Barry started to get up, wincing from the strain but seeming impossibly healthy considering how close he'd been to death.

Len reached to help him stand, and they both rose to their feet as Barry addressed the others.

"The rest of you stay here. It's dangerous to have too many people in the other world. Wally doesn't have a double on Earth-2, and mine already knows me. I don't know about Michael, and Snart is…complicated, but the four of us should be enough if we take the fight to Light."

"Complicated?" Len questioned. He'd never heard about his Earth-2 persona, but now he was curious.

"Hang on," Cisco said before Barry could explain. "First of all, _shoot him_ , if that adaptation to my gun does what I think it goes," he gestured from Michael to Wally. "Second, _you_ need a new suit," he pointed at Barry and the hole through his chest, "and I might have a prototype Wally can borrow so he's at least more presentable for a Flash outing."

Len was good to go as he was, and after Michael fired the gun at Wally, causing the young man to spark with power again and grin as jolts of lightning fizzled around his body, Len took the weapon back from his son.

Michael looked mildly disappointed to be disarmed and asked Cisco, "I don't suppose there's anything in that black bag for me?"

"Sorry, Dorothy. Maybe next time."

It was all happening so fast, but then, Len was used to that after meeting The Flash.

"You keep recovering, buddy," Cisco said to Barry. "Wally, get us to the Cortex and I'll grab those extra suits. Then we can get you guys to Oz."

XXXXX

Barry never quite got used to going through the multiverse portal. He didn't experience it like others did. He'd asked a few times—Cisco, who had his own way of experiencing it, and Harry, most notably—but how it appeared for Barry was solely unique to him.

Everything slowed, as if the Speed Force opened up and stopped the world around him like when he was going his fastest, and he could see flashes of lifetimes not his own from the other worlds. He didn't always retain what he saw, like waking from a dream when he reached the other side, but it was jarring and a little terrifying, and made him thankful for solid ground when they reached Harry's lab.

He never thought he'd be on Earth-2 with Leonard Snart, Snart's son, and Wally West. Joe was going to kill him when he found out. Especially considering how well that prototype suit fit.

It was similar to Barry's but mostly silver with black on the bottom, and the accents that were gold on Barry's costume were red on Wally's. Barry was a little jealous of it, to be honest, though he couldn't deny how much he loved Cisco's modifications to his own replacement, because it definitely had more gold than usual.

Landing effortlessly on his feet in the STAR Labs that belonged to Harry Wells—their friend—Barry watched as Wally came out behind him just as even-footed, as did Snart, but Michael wobbled and clung to Barry's arm for purchase.

Harry casually lowered the gun he'd been pointing at the portal. "Nice suits. Ramon spending more time as a Project Runway contestant than an engineer again?"

Barry snorted. That was Harry.

"You have Project Runway?" Wally asked.

"And who might you be?" Harry ignored him, focusing on Michael, the one face he didn't know.

"Snart's son, but we don't have time to explain right now," Barry said. "Did you see Doctor Light?"

"So that's who opened the portal before you. No. I was alerted when it opened and came down to investigate, but I didn't find anyone. Then you came through. Miss Park is back?"

Since time was of the essence, Barry gave the simplest run-down he could to get Harry up to speed.

"And _that_ gun is built similarly?" Harry pointed at Snart's cold gun. "Then I can track her. Come on."

They headed upstairs to Harry's workshop, and Barry asked after Jesse.

"Currently on Earth-3. Do I need to call her back?"

" _No_ ," Wally spoke up faster than he maybe should have, since Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "It's just kind of an awkward situation."

"Noted. Thankfully, it looks like security footage managed to catch Light on camera," Harry said as he sat in his roller chair, watching images of Light leaving the building. "But it'll take me a few minutes to triangulate her location. Allen, I believe your disguise from before is still in the cabinet over there."

"Oh, I shouldn't need it this time since the other Barry knows me. And hopefully we'll be quick."

"I meant for Mr. _Mayor_ over there," he glanced at Snart.

"Mayor?" Snart smirked with far too much satisfaction.

Barry turned to him, feeling flutters in his stomach anytime he looked at Snart now, though maybe that was because of the still stitching together wound beneath his suit. He doubted it though. "Normally, the rule is for you to not know too much about your other world self, but in this case, it's unavoidable and we can't have people recognizing you. So congrats! You're the mayor of Central City." He crossed to the cabinet and took out the rounded glasses he'd used when pretending to be Earth-2 Barry. "Now put these on so we can pretend you're someone else if anyone sees us."

"Actually, I meant the vest and bowtie," Harry said without looking up from his screens. "Leonard already wears glasses, but he tends more toward finer suits."

Barry failed at suppressing his excitement over Snart dressing in the full outfit.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Snart crushed his dreams. "We can play dress-up another time, Scarlet. Plus, I doubt I'd fit into anything tailored for you. If anyone spots me, I'll handle it."

But the tight fit was part of the appeal!

"Gotta ask though, Doc, one thing about this other me." Snart moved to stand beside Harry's chair. "Crooked or legit?"

"You introduce me to a politician who isn't a little crooked, and I might actually vote," Harry said. "But Leonard's as good as they come."

"So you know my dad's double but not me?" Michael asked.

Harry looked up to scan the boy's face again. "Sorry. Afraid not."

"Like Wally, I don't think you exist in this world, Michael," Barry said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. There were extenuating circumstances around me existing in _our_ world." He cast his father a warm smile that didn't appear to hold any hidden sorrows, even if Snart carried a few.

"Makes this easier anyway," Harry said, moving on from compiling security footage to pulling up what appeared to be a complicated tracking program. "Don't get caught up in being through the looking glass, gentleman. Allen and Ramon had enough trouble with that."

The others glanced at Barry.

"Trust me, I sobered on that real quick." He thought back to when he would have given anything to have Earth-2 Barry's life, but that wasn't him. He'd followed his own path, and he was starting to really love where that was headed, even if he was once again chasing an impossible bad guy who'd left him for dead.

There hadn't been much time to think about how close he'd come to not making it if Michael hadn't figured out something so quickly to reignite his healing. Sometimes being able to heal most wounds made it easier to run into danger—or in front of the beam of a deadly laser to protect his not-quite/maybe/future boyfriend and his son.

He'd maybe gotten a little sappy with Snart while losing so much blood, but he'd also gotten the man to ask him out.

While they waited for Harry's program to get a hit on Light, Snart pulled Michael into the next room to have him explain the nuances of what he'd done to the cold gun. Waiting was always torture for Barry, and it had to be even worse for Wally. Other people moved at normal speed, Light included, but it made Barry antsy. He could tell Wally had joined him in that regard, the way he bounced on his feet, ready to act as soon as they had a destination.

"Got it," Harry finally said. "She's holding stationary not too far from here, biding her time to build out a plan, no doubt. Give me five minutes and I'll have her location pinpointed exactly."

"I'll let Snart and Michael know," Barry said.

Heading into the other room, Barry initially held back, not wanting to interrupt when he saw Snart switching back and forth between settings on his gun, able to blast with ice or counter Light's effects with equal precision.

"Might be useful to keep it this way," Snart said with an appraising head tilt. "Could you make it so it can also do the reverse?"

"I don't know how Barry would feel about you depowering metas left and right," Michael said.

"Yes, how dare I want to make his life easier," Snart said in full-on Cold drawl. "This could change the game for everyone if used correctly."

"It could also be an excuse to depower every meta out there if the wrong person learned about it. That was never what I wanted my research to be for."

"So conscientious." Snart put the gun in its holster, though it barely fit given the changes. "We can discuss it, compromise for the greater good."

"Yeah? Maybe Barry is rubbing off on you. Or should I say _The Flash_?" he added dramatically.

Snart huffed but looked at Michael seriously. "I'm surprised you're not more upset."

"Seems silly to be mad. Just tell me one thing. Is that the only lie you're still keeping from me? That you said you dated so you could keep Barry's identity a secret?"

"Yes. I might not have told you everything yet, but that is the last lie. Now we're even." Snart smirked, and Michael had to chuckle.

"You did it for Barry. I get it. It's sweet. I guess being so quick to lie about dating him was more…wish-fulfillment?" Michael nudged his shoulder playfully.

It didn't have the intended effect though as some of that hidden sorrow sprang to life. "So it would seem. I'm not sure yet if making a go of this would be a good idea."

"Sure. I understand."

"You do? No arguing this time?" Snart eyed him skeptically.

"Honestly? If it's not what you want then I don't want to keep singing the same tune, Dad. Turning a new leaf to do legit business _or_ being with Barry. I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want. But do you know why I get so passionate about it? Because I know what really scares you."

"And what's that?"

"That you might turn out like your father."

Snart stiffened.

"I know I never met him and that maybe I'm better off—"

"You are."

" _But_ …I also know that you are nothing like him, Dad. You're better than you think you are, you just can't accept it and keep fighting against it like you're afraid to fail and let me down. I don't care if you screw up. Nobody can be perfect and good all the time. Not even The Flash. I just want you to think better of yourself, to be as good at that as you are at everything else. If that includes being with Barry, well…I can't think of anyone I'd rather have than my hero watching out for… _my hero_."

He grinned as wide as ever, but then came that abortive jerk forward and suppression to be physical that Barry had seen before, Michael choosing instead to turn away.

Snart grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back toward him, pulled him all the way in for a hug that Barry thought might be their first one ever for how it made Michael laugh and squeeze him back tightly.

"I'd say 'I'm no hero', but apparently I'm a lousy villain and need to get used to failure."

Barry choked back a laugh, but it didn't save him from being caught when Snart glanced up from his son's shoulder and saw Barry by the door. He waved, and Snart rolled his eyes but didn't look upset as he pulled from his son's embrace.

For Michael's sake, Barry knocked against the doorframe before entering. "Just a couple minutes and we should have Light's location."

"Oh! Great!" Michael whirled around, smile almost too wide for his face after such an important win with his father. Then he went right back to conniving as he moved swiftly for the door. "I better check on Wally. This has to be really tough on him." He patted Barry's arm as he passed him in a way that might as well have been a push.

Barry didn't try to fight but walked forward while Snart met him halfway, like they'd been doing since the beginning.

"Eavesdropping, Barry?" Snart said, but the sorrow was still there, the hesitation. No amount of hugging his son could change that. In fact, it brought it that much more to the surface. His eyes dropped to the floor between them as he tapped the side of his cold gun. "He wanted to save her with this, but he wasn't fast enough. Now he's trying to save me with…you." His attention flicked upwards, almost but not quite the way he did when admiring Barry's physique.

"And how's that going?" Barry asked.

Snart didn't fall in line with the usual banter but held Barry's gaze almost coldly. "I've killed people, Barry."

"So have I."

"I _liked_ it."

"Did you?" Barry asked, refusing to be swayed just because Snart felt the need to push.

"Sometimes I felt justified."

"That's not the same thing. But if we're being honest, then so did I. Every time, actually, even if I regretted it later. You know…" he took a slow step forward, "this doesn't have to happen all at once. It can be as simple as…looking at apartments and trying another job like what you did for Mercury Labs. See if you like it." Crowding into Snart's space got easier every time, mostly because, Snart didn't back away anymore.

"New apartment. Small jobs," Snart agreed with another swift eye-flick. "First date?"

Barry grinned. He knew Snart had his doubts, but he was still trying. That's all Barry would ask for.

"And to think," Snart said, sliding a smooth hand around Barry's waist and tugging him closer, "it only took a grown son to catch you."

"Hey, I could have been convinced without Michael. Without you changing a single thing. But this version of you is…" Barry took Snart in before sagging against him, though he noticed the barely perceptible wince as Snart waited for Barry to finish that sentence. "…happier."

It must not have been what Snart expected because his brow smoothed and he almost smiled without any of the common persona.

"Kiss for luck?" Barry asked, leaning in enough to bump Snart's nose.

"Mmm. Then later we can talk about that date," Snart said and closed the gap with a warm press.

He really had lovely lips and a talented tongue that knew all the best ways to slow Barry down. Harry and the others were probably waiting for them by now, but Barry allowed the moment to linger, for the kiss to drag, and relished in how Snart held firm.

"I'd tell you not to be so quick to die, Scarlet, but I know you won't listen."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing… _Len_ ," Barry said, and while some of the sentiment might have stung, it was who they were, and some parts of that were never going to change.

Snart seemed rather pleased though for getting Barry to finally call him by his first name.

XXXXX

Len felt uncharacteristically warm when he and Barry returned to the others. Maybe from the hug. Maybe from several long kisses with Barry. Maybe because his stone-cold heart had finally started beating for the first time in years. All of that made it difficult to feel like there wasn't a brighter tomorrow ahead of him.

 _Hope_. A dangerous thing—the most dangerous for someone like Len—but he didn't want to let it die.

"I assume you can memorize a map?" Wells said, pivoting in his roller chair after revealing Light's location as a blinking light on his fancy screen.

"Already did," Barry said. "If she's holding steady working out a plan, then we have her at a disadvantage. She won't expect us, not when she thinks we're still depowered."

"And that you're _dying_ ," Len put in, to which Barry sighed, and Wally's brow creased. These heroes hated to admit when someone they wanted to be good wasn't worth saving. "Be a lot easier if we could depower her first."

"There isn't time to reconfigure the gun for that, Dad," Michael said.

"Then I'll have to use my other setting." He tapped his gun. "We get the drop on Light, I blast her nice and cozy to prevent any laser beams, then Flash nabs her and slaps on a pair of meta dampening handcuffs," he pointed at Barry before turning to Wells, "which I assume you have lying around somewhere?"

Wells pulled a pair of handcuffs out of the drawer beside him as nonchalantly as offering up a ballpoint pen.

"Yahtzee."

"Sounds good to me," Barry said, addressing Michael and Wally next. "You two are backup— _only_ if something goes wrong. Got it?"

The pair exchanged glances that seemed to say much more than their nods or Michael's cryptic "Sure" implied. That could prove problematic, but Len didn't have time psychoanalyze, and he doubted he could get away with asking Wells to babysit.

"Just, um…tell Jesse I'm happy she's doing what she loves," Wally said to the man, "I hope I can too, and I get why she wanted to focus on something more than…me."

"You don't plan on following that advice yourself?" Wells asked. He was a smart man, possibly one of the smartest; he could tell Wally's interests in Light weren't only to save the day but to get the girl.

"I understand why it was the right call for Jesse. Me, I kinda prefer some of the other examples I've seen lately." Wally smiled sheepishly at Barry and Len, which was far too much sap for Len's sake, but he didn't have it in him to crush the kid's dreams—or break Barry's heart when he'd rather do the opposite.

Like keep it safe from anymore searing laser beams.

"Done with the pep talk now, kids? Let's hit the road."

The location of Light's lair meant they didn't need to worry about running into anyone along the way, not even at mid-morning, which Len kept forgetting it was. In fact, he was starting to get hungry and worried about Barry and Wally's metabolisms when they made a pit stop in an alley for Barry to flash into a Big Belly Burger and steal several bags of someone's to-go order.

"Positively criminal, Scarlet."

"It's an emergency. I can ask Harry to come back later and pay." He thrust a few bags at Wally, who looked grateful, and in a few swift blurs of motion, the food had disappeared, though not before Len snagged some French fries by distracting Barry with the swipe of his thumb along the corner of his mouth to rid it of ketchup.

"Shall we?"

Light was holed up in one of Central's City's old banks, which had seen better days, maybe had one too many robberies or explosions, and now sat in the center of a decrepit neighborhood that didn't quite fit the gloss of the rest of the city. Len almost wished he had run into someone, or caught the glimpse of a 'Vote for Snart' poster or footage on a TV to get a look at himself.

Did he still have Lisa on this Earth? Was Mick in his life? If Michael didn't exist, was Len seeing someone? Was he married? Did he have other children? Did he have several lovers while he otherwise focused on cleaning up Central City?

He might need to play a few of those scenarios out sometime, in _costume_ if Barry was so keen on dress-up, though now wasn't the time to get distracted by those thoughts.

They had Light cornered, only one way in and she didn't see them coming. All Len needed was one shot, and he was ready to take it.

In the center of the dilapidated bank, he saw Light as they fanned out from the entrance. She was hunched over a table, maybe looking at a map or something on meta human activity to choose her targets. He took his time, steadied his pulse, aimed carefully, glancing only briefly at Barry to be sure he was ready to play his part, then got ready to fire.

Len should have been paying more attention to Michael and Wally. Should have noticed how much whispering the two had been doing. Should have recognized that heroes-in-training were as bad as the real thing when it came to wanting to save everyone, even if they were doomed to fail.

"Linda!" Wally called out, and with a shock of lightning, Len's gun was taken from his hands before he could fire.

"What are you doing?" Barry hissed as Light spun around to go on the defensive.

Michael stood off to the side with a smile Len wasn't sure he should be proud of or infuriated at.

"Talking," Wally said, then called once more to Light as he raised his hands, cold gun along with them, and said, "Even if it means you shoot me again, Linda, first I'm going to get you to listen."

* * *

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

One of the first lessons Barry would have imparted to Wally if they'd had more time to christen him as a speedster hero was that it was always worth the time to talk before resorting to fighting. Everyone deserved a second chance. If Barry hadn't believed that, he wouldn't have believed so strongly in Snart.

But Wally could have waited until after they had Light immobilized!

Now he had Snart's gun, their only defense against _her_ gun that could depower them.

"Please," Wally said, slowly setting Snart's gun in front of his feet, then pulling back his cowl in case there was any doubt who he was. "Linda…"

"I don't want to talk, Wally." She aimed at him, though at least it was the gun and not her powers. "I didn't plan for this, but I have to now that I know what can be done."

"You didn't?" Michael stepped forward, which made Snart flinch in alarm but not dare move in kind for fear of spooking her. "I want to understand. There are so many people that technology could help, so many lives it could save by targeting disease or genetic disorders. That's what I wanted. What did you want?"

It was risky. Barry didn't dare move either, but Michael and Wally were getting Light to talk, which was the most important step. And she did seem unsure and looked relieved to see Barry well.

"I knew someone had to be working on ways to use dark matter to alter DNA," she said. "I spent months sneaking into labs to find what I needed, and you were the closest. At first, I just wanted to be rid of my own powers, but that's the coward's way out. I know there are good people who are metas, but you don't give a child control over a nuclear bomb and hope their good nature wins out."

"You don't get to make that call," Barry said, hands up as soon as she swung the gun toward him. "What about a person's own choice? What about the lives I've saved _because_ of my powers?"

"He's right," Wally said, daring to move closer to her. "Maybe this gun could be the game-changer to prevent future Zooms, but we need to talk about it first. You can't take away who people are just because you're afraid of how they'll use what they've been given. It's part of them now. Do you think Barry would be the same if he wasn't The Flash? He's saved countless people, like he said, and not only from other meta humans.

"We can make a difference." Wally took another step and another, and Light's hand trembled as she tried to keep the gun aloft. "A real difference. You could be a hero yourself to stand up to people like Zoom. Or if you want your powers gone, then lose them and live whatever life you want. But don't do this."

The silence was thick as the gun began to falter, but Light eventually centered it again with resolve.

"That's not enough."

"It has to be," Wally said. "Otherwise, the first Zoom copycat this city is going to see is you."

Fury sprang to life on her face, and Michael stepped forward again, _in front_ of Wally, even though he was the most vulnerable of any of them.

"You know what my dad told me when I first asked him why he's a thief?"

Barry glanced at Snart, because he got the impression from the way the man twitched, more rigid than before, that "I love this game and I'm very good at it" wasn't the answer this time. Or maybe he just hated the way Michael was so quick to put himself in harm's way.

"Because it's something he can pick apart at every angle," Michael said, "and even if it all goes wrong, he can adapt. Being able to come out ahead of chaos like that makes him feel in control when he didn't have that luxury for most of his life. The only time I ever felt like I didn't have control was when my mom died."

"Yeah…" Wally echoed him. "Me too."

"Building that," Michael gestured at the gun, "gave me back some of the control I'd lost, because it gave me the chance to help others who might suffer like I had, like she had. You can take back control too, for better reasons than you're planning now, like I've tried to, like my dad has. Maybe he'll never stop being a thief, but he's a good man. From what I've heard, that's how they used to describe you too."

Barry could see the conflict on Light's face, but she needed a final push. "When there's nothing worth wanting but something for yourself, it's hard to see past being selfish," he said, feeling Snart's eyes on him as he recalled what he'd spoken only a few days ago before their heist at Mercury Labs, inspired by The Grey Ghost. "But when you have something worth fighting for, your perspective changes."

"That's what I'm doing," Light said. "I don't have anything else worth fighting for, Flash. Anyone I cared about on this earth Zoom already killed. Why do you think I was so afraid of him?"

"Then I'm sorry for that. But what about fighting for what you could have again? What about fighting for a second chance?" Barry didn't want to put Wally on the spot, but the way he smiled at Light in support told Barry that there might be more to fight for.

"You'd never just let me walk," Light said.

"Actually, I've been known to make exceptions when I believe someone's worth the risk." He didn't try to hide that his attention shifted to Snart. Not everyone would understand how he could accept someone who had done terrible things, but being able to do that was part of how he forgave himself. It wasn't someone's past that defined them, but what they chose to do with tomorrow.

If that was something good, it was always worth giving them a second chance.

"It'll be hard for all of us," Wally said, taking one more hopeful step, "there might even be times when your way sounds better, but you know this is the right call. Please, Linda. Don't be like Zoom."

Silence reigned again in the moments that followed, waiting for the pin to drop. When it did, Barry felt a rush of pride for Wally and Michael.

Light sagged, and the gun lowered at her side. Slowly, she turned it handle-out, and Wally zipped forward to take it from her, reminding Barry of the night he'd gently taken the cold gun from Snart.

As if recalling that same moment, Snart moved forward to pick up his gun but paused and looked back at Barry before he sheathed it.

"That was a big risk," Snart said to Michael.

"Wally took the risk, not me."

"Which you put him up to."

"I may have suggested a few things on the way here." Michael shrugged. "What can I say, Dad? I learned watching the two of you."

Barry couldn't keep the smile from his face with the way Snart scoffed at that, even if that level of cheese was right up his alley. What mattered was that they'd won without having to trade blows, and while Light looked uncertain, she came forward with Wally holding his hand.

"Kid Cold and Kid _Flash_ , huh?" Barry planted his hands on his hips. "I think we might be doomed."

XXXXX

It was humbling how forgiving Michael was after they were preparing to take their leave of Earth-2. It certainly wasn't an ingrained trait Michael had picked up from Len.

"I'm sorry," Light said to him, and Michael merely smiled.

"I forgive you. The truth is, all of this pushed me to get the research where it needed to be, and I made great friends along the way. Now, I can save even more people, and I like to think that started with you, even if it was a tough road getting here."

Len was surrounded by white hats, it was official, and he wouldn't be escaping any time soon. For once though, he didn't want to take his leave or shrug off the sentimentality. The only place he wanted to go besides home was on that date.

They were gathered in the portal room ready to head out when the TV news changed to a press conference.

"That's one difference I'll never get used to," Light said, nodding at _Mayor Snart_ at the podium, discussing continued rebuilding efforts since Zoom's disappearance.

"Turn the sound on!" Michael exclaimed, to which Wells looked entirely put out by having to turn the remote that direction but did so anyway.

"…despite the work yet to be done, we are not slowing down, and luckily for all of us, neither is Jesse Quick, Central City's Scarlet Speedster. In light of the evidence against The Flash as Zoom in disguise, this year's Flash Day and every one after it belongs to her. City Hall is open to suggestions for a new name." He smiled subtly and adjusted his glasses with modesty Len did not possess. The voice was different too, gentler and devoid of real showmanship. Len wasn't sure he liked it.

"I didn't like my double at first either," Barry said, nudging Len's shoulder. He must have given himself away with his sneer.

"Weird," Michael said as the press conference ended.

"Not a fan?" Len asked.

"Doesn't feel like you. The real thing's better."

"And what are you thinking?" Len turned to Barry.

"That you could stand to wear more suits." Barry grinned.

"And no contacts?"

"You have _glasses_?"

"I might."

"Can we save the fetishes for after we're home?" Light said. "Before I change my mind."

Wally took her hand again, bolstered by her slip of calling Earth-1 'home'.

Once they'd gone through the portal, Michael spent the rest of the day with Cisco, Hartley, Wally, and Light herself working on reverse engineering both guns to create something special—first, giving Light's gun the ability to depower _and_ re-power metas, doing the same to Len's as long as he promised to use it responsibly, and finally, building a small separate tool that didn't look like a gun at all to target cancerous cells the way Michael wanted. Patients might have frowned at having to stare down a barrel.

"Imagine the possibilities?" Michael said. "This isn't just about cancer. This could eventually do so much more!"

"Imagine working in conjunction with CRISPR?" Cisco added.

"Let's get this baby patented first," Hartley calmed them, while Wally grinned just to be a part of it all.

Len's son would be set for life after this. He also might be a world-wide hero, and his response was simply, "I can't wait to tell everyone at the hospital."

Light gave Len pause, but she'd had the upper hand if she wanted to take it.

"I can't just go back to being this world's Linda Park," she said.

"Well, our Linda is across the country," Barry said. "Maybe you two can work something out."

Wally never left her side. The kid was a hopeless cause. An ex-thief and a would-be hero. Apparently, Len and Barry had started a trend. And he thought Michael and Hartley were bad.

"You'll really let me go?" she asked. "Just like that?"

"We'd be hypocrites if we weren't willing to give someone a second chance who we believed in."

Maybe they were fools, but there was a quote somewhere that if you had to be a fool, it was better to have company.

When things finally calmed down and it was growing late, Barry snuck over to Len. "We on for tonight?"

Len had expected a breather, but he couldn't say he minded culminating their success with that date. "Being seen out together does limit our options. I was thinking we'd stay in. Give me an hour. The safe house you were at before. It has the best kitchen."

"You're _cooking_? I'm there."

"You went to Earth-2?! And what's _she_ doing here?!" West had arrived. Len figured he could leave that fire to Team Flash. Michael looked content enough with his fellow engineers that he'd hardly notice Len slipping away.

"One hour, Scarlet. Don't be late."

Making sure Mick and Lisa would be elsewhere was key, but they only mildly teased him and agreed to make scarce for the evening. Len was pleasantly surprised when, not a minute over an hour later, there was a knock at his door.

Barry cleaned up nice in a button-down and jeans, slick but casual for a night in, which was what Len had gone for too—jeans, a lighter grey sweater, glasses.

"Wow."

"So it is a fetish."

" _No_. You'd look good in anything."

Barry was as adorably fumbly as ever, but they fell easily into their usual banter while they ate.

"Inspiration from The Grey Ghost to save the day, even. You are a wonder, Scarlet."

"I think I was more inspired by you. Just like Wally and Michael."

"It wasn't only me," Len said, using the excuse to get up and move to the living room sofa to hide the warmth in his cheeks.

Barry followed him. "We're an unstoppable team then."

"Does that mean I can count you in if _Rogues Inc._ goes live as a security consultancy?"

"You mean it?" Barry practically bounced on the cushion next to him, sloshing both their drinks.

"This was fun," Len admitted as he stabilized his glass. "Terrifying at times but fun. Lisa wants in next time. Even Mick is amenable for Michael. I suppose I need to start thinking long-term."

"Long-term?" Barry scooted closer.

"Well, I wasn't planning on a one-night stand." Len took in the soft green of Barry's eyes. "You're worth at least two or three."

Barry laughed, but as the sound faded, he took Len's glass from him and set both drinks on the coffee table. "Better cash in while I have your full attention then," he said, and moving slowly, lifted one knee over Len's thighs to settle in his lap.

Len's hands instinctually went for Barry's hips, and he enjoyed the weight as their mouths gravitated closer and closer until they met.

He couldn't have imagined one day being here back on that cold night at Christmas. The fire had always been there, the tension, but affection was dangerous and fleeting, only expressed in owing one another. This was Len allowing himself to owe something to him. A new beginning, for him and his son, him and Barry, and just him alone.

"If we really had been dating back then," Barry whispered, "and instead of breaking up at Christmas, we moved to the next level, how do you think it would have happened?"

"This is a good start." Len squeezed his waist.

"I mean it," Barry giggled. "How would you have seduced me if there were no hang-ups in the way?"

"And no Miss West accompanying you?"

"Yeah."

"Let's say you'd still rushed me," Len played along, settling back into the sofa with Barry in his lap, "all hot and angry against the fireplace for breaking in unannounced. No Miss West means those lips of yours would have been even more tempting than usual. I hardly would have been able to resist stealing a taste." He made good on that with a flick of his tongue, then followed through with a press between Barry's lips.

"And I," Barry gasped when they disconnected, "would have forgotten to be angry and asked why you really came."

"You know why."

"To warn me."

"To keep us even."

"Oh really?" Barry stared down at him.

"Maybe I like you better in one piece," Len conceded.

Barry twined his arms around Len's neck. "Maybe I like you in one piece too."

There was no coming back after this, Len realized. He'd realized the same when he first came to accept that the young man in his safe house was his son. And just like then, Len didn't want to change anything that had happened or his current trajectory.

"And would we have found our way to Detective West's sofa?" Len asked. "Just like this?"

"I would have dragged you from the fireplace and pushed you down into the cushions," Barry said, and Len growled low in reply, possessive as he glided his hands up the back of Barry's shirt and kissed him rougher than before, _deeper_ , before moving along his jaw to his throat.

Barry's gasps were as encouraging as his giggles. "I would have loved peeling you out of that parka."

"Mmm…apologies then for not wearing it tonight."

"I can peel you out of this too."

It was rare that Len enjoyed the thought of someone peeling him out of anything, but when Barry slid his hands down the front of Len's chest to the edge of his sweater and lifted, Len didn't fight him. They'd been here before. Len still had a bandage on his shoulder, though it was fresh from that morning, not the same one Barry had applied.

Barry touched him gently there, like a promise that he'd remember to be careful, but everywhere else his hands strayed came with fervor. The grind up into Barry's spread legs as the kid rocked in kind atop him, Barry's hands on Len's chest, Len's hands up Barry shirt, pulling at it until it too was thrown away—there was an urgency to it all, but also the desire to savor every touch.

Len had feared he'd flinch, but with Barry, somehow, everything came easy. Maybe because he didn't have to pretend with his speedy nemesis. He could be Captain Cold or he could let the drawl fade, and either way, Barry was with him.

Diving forward, Barry went for Len's ear, licking the rim, and then nipped slowly down his neck, while Len likewise tongued every expanse of bared skin he could reach. Through it all, Barry rocked, and Len gripped his hips again to help with just the right angle and rhythm. Quick and dirty in some seedy bar wasn't like this, could never be like this. Len hadn't had anything close to this since…

It wasn't the right time to think it, but if there had ever been someone from his past he could have…loved, maybe it was Michael's mother. If a child had to come from any of his past flings, he was glad it had been with her, he was glad for Michael. There were a lot of things surrounding it all that he was sorry for, but he was happy to be here, now, with someone new he could take a chance on who fit every other part of his life and who had no intention of running.

The irony of that made Len snicker.

"What? Ticklish?"

"No. Impatient." Len opened Barry's jeans with a flourish, but instead of tugging them down, he moved his hands around back to slide into the waistband along the skin. He'd dreamed of getting his hands on this ass, and Barry whimpered at his greedy squeeze.

"Thought I was the impatient one," he said, lifting up to undo Len's jeans as well. His hand dipped inside and palmed him over his underwear, while he wriggled down to get closer and captured Len's lips in another kiss.

Now, Len had Barry's hands on him too; it was almost more than he could stand, and he used his hold on Barry to throw him down onto the sofa. His hands dislodged, but he climbed on top of Barry quickly, letting him speed through getting his pants and underwear down so he could grip Len sure and true and _stroke_.

Len hissed and bit back a curse at how good Barry's hand felt, how warm. He wanted to feel Barry spread out beneath him bare and removed him of his jeans to make them even. Lying atop Barry like that made any remaining insecurities in Len evaporate like water on a warm day.

"I hope Detective West doesn't come home to interrupt," Len whispered in Barry's ear to remind him of the game.

"Worth it to get caught if it's with you, Snart. Leonard," he corrected, then giggled again at how unused he was to calling Len the right name. " _Len_ ," he finally said, and the melody of his voice, the endearing blush to his cheeks, only made Len want him more.

Making out on the sofa, grinding, touching each other like ravenous teenagers, got Len revved up rapidly, but he knew he wanted more if Barry was willing.

"God, your _hands_. I want to feel your fingers opening me up."

That answered _that_. "In the bedroom, there's a nightstand—"

A gust of air and flicker of lightning signaled, and just as quickly as the figure beneath Len vanished, he returned with lube and a condom. "I want to sit in your lap again."

"My thoughts exactly."

They shifted to sit up, and while Barry straddled Len and stayed lifted to give him access, Len used the lube to coat his fingers. He reached beneath Barry, who proved pliant to the initial stretch and moaned so prettily as Len slid in. How had they gone so long without this when they complemented each other so well?

It wasn't long before Barry was rocking again, taking Len's finger deeper, taking _two_ , holding himself up with impressive strength and still able to crane his neck to kiss Len. The teased of their tongues, the intimate contact of their eyes—this wasn't the way a one-night stand would have started at all.

"I'm glad I ran into you that day, Len," Barry said.

Len's free hand reached up to brush the back of his knuckles along Barry's cheek. "Me too."

When they were ready, Barry sat down slowly, easing Len in with plaintive whines that went right to Len's cock. The scarlet flush in his cheeks was as rosy as ever, eyes hazy, lips parted, painting the most enticing picture. Len felt Barry tighten around him and had to release his own moan.

The way Barry moved once he'd adjusted, back arching, long neck exposed and mouth dropping open further, had Len clinging tightly to his hips as he drank it all in. He had The Flash in his arms, but he was equally captive.

Every chance Barry got as their movement increased, he'd kiss Len again, hands at his face, his neck, eager for touch like he always was, and finally given leave to touch Len as much as he wanted. Their pace increased more and more, and Len reveled in the freedom to touch Barry back, letting his hips do the work as he felt up Barry's chest and around his slim waist, then down again to the length bobbing between them, demanding more attention than the slide of Len's stomach.

Len could oblige, and stroked Barry in time to their motion, catching his eyes between kisses and holding them, wanting Barry to see the surrender in his expression that he never let anyone else see.

Barry's whimpers rose in pitch, and soon he was spilling over the edge, urging Len to thrust faster and faster into the tightening muscles and then come shortly after. It wasn't Christmas in the West house, it was many months later, but Len wouldn't have changed a single thing.

Soon after they'd untangled and cleaned up, lying on the sofa still naked and enjoying the feel of one another, Len's cell phone chimed and he reached down into his discarded jeans to make sure it wasn't an emergency.

"Michael?"

"Mm," Len said. "Wondering about coming over for breakfast tomorrow. Says you're welcome to _stay_ and join us."

"That obvious we'd end up in the same location tonight?"

"Apparently."

"I'd be okay with breakfast," Barry said, timidly like he worried Len wouldn't want him to stay.

Len hadn't actually imagined Barry leaving, which was startling to realize, but not a deterrent. "I'll tell him he better not be here a minute before nine. I intend to sleep in."

"I like the sound of that. I can't stay too late though. I need to claim that apartment I've been eyeing before somewhere else gets it. You know what I found out?"

"Hm?"

"The apartment next door's for rent too."

Len blinked at the mischievous smile on Barry's face. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Right up our alley then."

"Or an excuse to spy on me."

"Or an excuse to phase through your door whenever we want to do this." Barry trailed playful fingers down Len's chest. "Not to pressure you. I'm not asking you to move in or anything when we just had our first real date, it's separate apartments, I just—"

"Barry, trust me," Len said, grasping his hand, not to stop its descent or push it away, but to hold it firm and squeeze, "when I need you to slow down, you'll know."

XXXXX

Barry slept amazing that night. He may have had a few messages from Joe waiting on his phone wondering where he was, but that would not deter him after the night he'd had. It might have been a safe house for a notorious criminal, but it was still a comfy bed and very comfy arms he woke up in.

Unsure of the time, the main thing Barry was aware of as he roused was how thirsty he was and how much he needed to pee. Uncoiling himself from Len's hold, he slipped on his underwear and flashed to the bathroom. Afterward, he may have been a little too single-minded while flashing into the kitchen to get a glass of water because he didn't immediately notice the room wasn't empty.

"Well then. Now I know why Lenny isn't up yet."

Barry choked on his water and nearly spat it all over the counter. He whirled around to find Lisa and Mick at the kitchen table with donuts spread out and coffee made. Neither of them was trying to hide their perusals of his state of undress.

"What time is it?" he exclaimed, wondering how many more surprises were in store for him.

"Relax, Red, we're early," Mick said. "You got time to get your drawers on before Mikey gets here. Figured we'd join ya this morning."

"And we're certainly not complaining about the view," Lisa said. "But don't tell Cisco I said that.

A drawn out sigh signaled the arrival of Len, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweats— _and_ his glasses, which made Barry wish they were alone for how much the sight made him want to pounce.

"Still sure about that living arrangement you suggested, Scarlet?"

Even caught with his pants down—literally—Barry couldn't help but laugh, and flashed over to Len to kiss his cheek before any dissention could arise. "Yep," he said, and zipped away just as quickly to get dressed.

Michael might approve of and actually whole-heartedly endorse their relationship, but that didn't mean he would want the show Lisa and Mick were just privy to. Thankfully, everyone was fully dressed by the time Michael showed up, and they enjoyed what Barry realized after a while was their _second_ family dinner together, just with the other family this time.

All in all, a fairly successful first date.

Barry almost expected something bad to happen in the weeks that followed, mostly from experience, because he rarely got to keep 'good' for very long. But Light—Linda—didn't backtrack on their arrangement. She'd continue her charade as Linda Park in Central City, while the other Linda, who'd taken on a pseudonym anyway ever since leaving, thrived in her new city.

Not to say Earth-1 Linda was fully on board with her double being back and taking up her old life, but she loved her new life so much, she couldn't bring herself to be that upset. Iris was a tougher nut to crack—Barry knew firsthand how you did not want to get on her shit list—but she was only being tough on Linda to make sure she was serious about staying for the right reasons.

Being hung up on Wally helped, and Barry could tell that her affections were genuine whenever he caught her smiling at his baby brother.

Joe looked ready to give several long scolding speeches to both him and Wally, however, but every time he seemed ready to start, he'd shake his head and sigh with grudging acceptance.

"You're really okay with it?" Barry asked eventually, mostly about his own relationship, though he got the impression sometimes that Joe trusted Len more than Linda, despite both of them having nearly killed him at different points.

"I wouldn't say that," Joe said. "Kinda saw it coming after family dinner though. Shoulda seen it sooner maybe. If you're happy, and you're sure…I guess I might have been wrong about him."

It was funny how much more Barry had worried about Joe's reaction than Henry's, but then Henry knew Len, at least a little, and merely smiled and said the same thing: "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you, kiddo."

After all, Barry had said the same about McGee once. She was a stern but amazing woman. Forgiving too, since she'd agreed not to press charges against Linda. Everything had been returned, no lasting damage had been done, Michael's research was poised to make her company a lot of money and bring in even more recognition, and she'd gotten a fresh new recruit for Mercury Labs as well.

Though not Hartley, as it turned out. _Wally_ would be starting as an intern, with a good chance to be hired full time once he graduated. Hartley had turned down her offer for what he said was something far more interesting.

Rogues Inc.

"Are you sure you aren't letting Hartley in on this as a way to keep an eye on him?" Barry asked Len.

"And keep him out of trouble when he insists on spending time with my son? Absolutely."

The last piece, of course, was making sure no one sniffed around Rogues Inc. to get Len or anyone else thrown in jail, which came down to 'new' footage anonymously being delivered to Captain Singh at the CCPD showing that Len had killed his father in self-defense to protect The Flash.

"It wasn't—"

"Just take this one, Len, please? From Cisco, not me." Not that Barry was opposed. Lewis had gotten what he deserved, and Len was ready to do right by his second chance. That was enough.

Mick and Lisa still had clean records from Cisco's wipe years ago, nothing else having been proven that could stick ever since. That alone might not have been enough, but Captain Cold being seen aiding The Flash on the regular had a more lasting effect.

Requests for security upgrades were already pouring in, and while that might paint a target on Len's back from people thinking he'd gone soft or that he'd betrayed his way of life, he had an ever-growing team to support him. If the Rogues found themselves at STAR Labs more often than not—Lisa especially—even better.

All that was left in the aftermath of discovering Michael Wynters as Len's son and the adventure that had followed was to finish moving into Barry's new apartment.

XXXXX

The chicken salad at the café really was something special. Len got it nearly every time he and Michael grabbed lunch there—like they were doing today.

They both had plans for the afternoon, but like always with the two of them, seeing each other three to four times a week was the norm, if not almost every day. It felt like family, the way Lisa and Mick had always been, but with a touch of something more that had been missing.

Understanding, maybe? Hope? _Light_? Whatever it was Michael brought with him, Len hoped he never had to learn to live without it.

He could stand to live without Hartley Rathaway being such a constant at times, since that's who Michael had plans with—again.

"Do you have a problem with that, Dad?"

"No. He should have a problem with dating his boss's son in case anything goes array."

"Relax." Michael laughed. "I'm not in any rush for something serious. In fact, for the first time, I feel like I can finally slow down. Inevitable as the son of Captain Cold, right?"

It used to be that when people recognized Len, they averted their eyes and hurried past. Now they looked on in awe like meeting a celebrity. Even some of the wait staff at the café were still staring. He'd have a drink named after him in no time at this rate.

"What did you get Barry as a house-warming gift?" Michael asked, indicating the bag Len had set on the table.

Len pushed it closer to Michael so he'd know it was okay to look inside.

"A reindeer mug?" Michael crinkled his nose.

"Trust me, he'll appreciate it."

"Okay, Dad. Have fun today." He went for a hug as soon as Len stood from his chair. "I love you."

"I love you too." Len squeezed back. " _Kid_ Cold." The name had stuck, so Len figured he might as well accept that he was doomed.

The walk to Barry's new apartment was short. Len was fairly certain he'd pounce on the apartment next door—he had already, but was drawing out the time before signing the lease to make Barry sweat—and liked the compromise of not being too serious while also having the option to knock on Barry's door whenever he wanted.

He was about to knock now when the door opened before he could to reveal Barry's beaming smile.

Yep. Len was doomed all right.

"Well, Scarlet? You gonna invite me in?"

* * *

THE END


End file.
